


Bury a Friend

by eliae



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 103,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliae/pseuds/eliae
Summary: Emma never knew what made her special, why Olivia Godfrey allowed her son to spend time with her but none of the other 'peasents' of Hemlock Grove. Maybe it was  personality, or maybe her looks. Or maybe it was her ability to look past all of Roman's flaws until it affected her.Slight canon divergence.





	1. Chapter 1 | Daddy Issues |

They'd known each other forever. Forever might be an exaggeration, but neither could truly recall the first time they'd met. It must have been preschool, maybe kindergarten. She could remember parts of his dads funeral, and he could remember parts of her dad when he was still around.

Two sides of a horseshoe. A very strange and fucked up horseshoe. 

Emma's mom wasn't as cold as his, but she was often distant. Where Olivia was overbearing to Roman, Kay Parker was missing. She was a hardworking woman because she had no other choice. It was never her intention to be so departed from her daughter, but life got in the way. Well, work got in the way. Your mom being a third shift nurse had its disadvantages. She was alone a lot as a child, or at a friends house. But now, as a teenager, it was perfect.

Kay left at 10:15 PM and didn't return until almost 8:00 AM, leaving plenty of time for Emma to do what she wanted- like go to the party she was at.

It was nearly 1:00 AM when they stumble out of Roman's car and towards the house, arm in arm. They'd spent the last Saturday of summer drinking mojitos by the pool and pushing one another in. They had slowed down enough to take a nap before they got the call from Scotty that he was throwing and back to school party. Neither really wanted to go, but it seemed obligatory to make an appearance.

People hated Roman as much as they loved him. Even though he could be a dick and kept acquaintances rather than friends, they wanted to be like him. And those who didn't want to be him wanted him in them. She was just along for the ride of ass-kissing and flirting. It was pure entertainment to watch people fawn over a boy she remembered being incredibly awkward and uncomfortable in his own skin. Nobody ever saw that part of him. To the public Roman Godfrey had always been a godlike figure in this town. 

"Let me know when you want to go." He shouts over the music before they part ways. She nods and watches him leave. She knows he'll be making his way into the bathroom to do a couple lines then he'll wander around until he finds a girl for the night. It wouldn't take long.

In the kitchen, she finds a beer and some friends. "Did you hear there's a new guy?" Kim asks.

"No." Ally shakes her head, long hair barely moving from its place. 

"He and his mom are gypsies. I've never met gypsies before." Kim replies.

"Like Esmerelda?"

"No," Emma pops in. "Gypsies are pretty modern, they just move around a lot. It's more of a lifestyle."

"Ooooh, you've done your research." Kim teases her.

"No, I've watched Big Fat Gypsy Weddings on TLC." The girls laugh at that.

"Either way, it's going to be an interesting year." Ally adds, not even knowing the half of it.

"What's Roman doing tonight?" Kim asks.

"Okay, but who is Roman doing tonight." Ally jumps in. Even though they were her friends, they weren't excluded from the Roman Godfrey  Charm™. They swooned as hard as anyone else, but had enough respect for their friend to bite it back a little. Just a little.

"He's here somewhere, and your guess is as good as mine."

Kim eventually wanders off, trying to get the attention of a junior named Logan. Emma follows Ally outside to dip her feet in the pool. "Sorry, I'm being lame tonight."

"You're not being lame!" Emma assures her. "I'm tired, so I'm glad I have someone to be low-key with."

"I'm just sad about Tyler again." Emma accidentally groans out loud. "I know, I know! It's bad." It had been two years of these shenanigans, and she couldn't see why Ally was still hung up on this guy.

"You have a problem," she finishes the rest of her beer in one swig. "And you need to work on it."

"It's not that easy Em, you've never had a boyfriend."

"True, but I know that I wouldn't want one like him."

"I just, I feel like there's something wrong with me," Ally lights a cigarette. "Like I'm not good enough. He wants someone different."

"Different doesn't mean you're not good enough."

"I mean good in the sense of right and wrong. Good and bad."

"Oh," Emma nods, not fully understanding.

"He likes Letha apparently."

"No!" She gasps. "Roman will actually kill him," Emma can't imagine his reaction if he knew. He's very protective over Letha, to a point that she has to tell him to stop. Letha, however, has never seemed to protest this behavior. Like most people, she typically listens to him and accepts that what he says is final. Emma has never acted like that.

"No offense, but their relationship is weird. Do you think her dad gave his mom like 20 sheep and now they're in an arranged marriage."

"Ew, Ally, they're cousins," Emma chuckles. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't had similar thoughts. On the surface, they did have a very weird relationship. She knew that it was only because Roman really and truly cared for Letha, the same way he does his sister.

"Rich people don't care about that." Emma stands up at that.

"I need a drink." She walks back towards the house.

"The entire royal family is based on incest!" Ally yells at her. "Look it up!"

"No thanks!" Emma shouts back, not bothering to look at Ally.

Inside, the music seems to have gotten louder, and someone clearly brought weed. She tries to make herself a drink, but her arm is caught by Scotty. "Shots first."

"Shot for shot if you're not a bitch," she says back, barely audible over the sound. Emma likes Scotty, always has. He's got a cute skater vibe to him, long hair, a stick and poke tattoo on his ankle, always in a band, the stereotypical guy her mom would hate then ultimately fall in love with. She's super into it.

"Bet." He pours them both a shot and they both down it easily. "How much have you had already? I don't want you on your ass, I don't want that kind of responsibility."

"Just a beer," she assures him, then pours another one, followed by another. The last one doesn't go down too easy. "I think I'm good for now."

"Me too." He agrees. "Beer?" She nods. There's a shattering noise coming from the living room. 

"Shit, I'll be back." He runs in that direction leaving her alone.

"Do you think she lets him do really weird shit her?" Emma hears from a group of younger girls behind her. She knows instantly who they're talking about- her. Every year the new freshman make assumptions about her relationship with Roman. She's heard it all from and at some point it became funny and she liked to egg it on.

 "She has to right?" 

"Of course." Their voices are indistinguishable. 

"I mean can you blame her? I would do anyth-."

"Shut up." One of them hisses as Roman enters the room.

"Hi, ladies," he waves at them and they all giggle. Even in his drunken and coked out state, he managed to be charming. Roman Godfrey was _always_ charming. Emma just shakes her head. He comes to wrap one giant arm around her. She stands up tall and pulls him down a bit to reach his ear.

"Pathetic," She says to him, looking over her shoulder to the girls. She shoots them a wink but her glare is interrupted by him grabbing her ass. "Are you having fun?" She asks.

"I'm very drunk if that's what you mean. Are you ready to go?"

"I think so."

They stumble around saying their goodbyes. They finally make it to the car, out of breath and laughing.

"Are you okay to drive?" She asks, serious for the first time that night.

"I will be." He says, pulling out a small bag from his jacket pocket. "You sure you don't want any, Em?"

"Roman, I've told you a million times, I don't have the money to have a coke habit." Emma shakes her head as she hears the familiar sniffing sound.

"And I've told you a million times," he turns the car on. "I would love to have you be my coke whore." He rubs the back of his hand across her cheek and she quickly smacks it away. 

"I'm trying to go to college, not ruin my life."

"You don't need to go to college. We have a long term plan."

"Marrying you as a PR stunt isn't a long term plan."

"It is too! I can't be the gorgeous ladykiller billionaire forever. A guys gotta look like he settled down." He whines. "I'll be your sugar daddy, but you would have to call me daddy. That's the only condition."

"Oh no! You're life is so hard." Emma teases him, rolling down the window to stick her hand out. "Poor Roman Godfrey, born billionaire, can't find true love."

"Don't want true love." He corrects her. "I want to fuck a lot of women."

"What woman did you want tonight?"

"Kat."

"Kat?" Her ears perk up. "Shee-it," she mocks his tone. Kat was a fairly virginal girl, by Roman's standards anyway. 

"She just blew me, it was easy."

"She's not easy." Emma laughs. "You're just you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He smirks.

"You know exactly what that means."

"Please elaborate."

"I refuse to partake in jerking off your ego."

"What about other forms of jerking off." He pushes her slightly.

"Been there, done that." She mumbles.

"Do you want to come back to my place, or should I take you home?" He tries to change the subject.

"Take me home." She sighs. "Mom thinks we're getting a little old for sleepovers, thinks it's weird."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So first off, hello. Second, I have not watched this show in years and I'm jogging my memory via other fanfics, so thank you to all the wonderful writers!
> 
> And third: I'm a dialogue driven writer (blame screenwriting classes) so I'm not great with descriptions and the pretty things. I'm working on it so hopefully it'll get better as time goes on!
> 
> And last but not least, I'll offer one more trigger warning as this story does mostly revolve around sexual assault, rape, and the aftermath of it. I attempted to rewatch the show like a year ago, but it was hard for me to watch. I felt like the plot has the ability to explore how sexual violence inhabits your life once it occurs and I wanted to follow that trail. I want to share that I have experienced these things first hand from someone I knew and trusted. I've found that media often does a poor job of portraying sexual violence so I wanted to write it myself.


	2. Chapter 2 | Great Tits |

Monday comes too quick for Emma's taste. She wakes up to a text from her mom wishing her good luck on her first day. She's up earlier than she would like to be and blames it on the first day of school jitters, but she has a strange feeling she can't shake. Like when you wake up from a dream that wasn't scary, but it was unnerving.

She likes walking to school, especially at this time of the year when families have began to pull out Halloween decorations. If she gets up early enough, which she usually doesn't, she'll get a coffee from the small cafe on the way. She takes her time this morning.

"How much are you charging?" She hears Roman shout from the window of his car. He always drives past her in the morning.

"Ha Ha," Emma replies sarcastically. "You've only made that joke like.. several hundred times."

"You sure you don't want a ride?"

"I like my walk," she shrugs and he continues to drive next to her. "You're holding up traffic."

"Fuck them!"  
...  
He's waiting for her on front steps of the school smoking a cigarette. He's dressed like a university English Professor, as usually, and leans back on the stair railing. Emma's not blind, she can see why everyone fawns over him. "Thought you'd never make it."

"Exercise is good for you," she pokes at his stomach.

"Hey! I'm incred-"

"No smoking on school property, Mr. Godfrey," a sharp voice interrupts him.

"Come on Ms. Campton, can't a guy catch a break." He winks at the middle-aged woman as she walks past. In response she just giggles, giggles like a school girl.

"Goddamnit." Emma rolls her eyes. Roman always got what he wanted, not only because of his name or looks but because of his charm. He has always had a weird way of getting people to do what he wanted. "Come one, we're going to be late. What's your schedule?"

"First-period art." He reads off.

"Same."

"Then Lit."

"Same."

"Gym."

"Gym?" She comes to a complete stop. "Roman Godfrey in a gym class?" He nods. "Who's in it?"

"Celeste Reed."

"Celeste Reed." She laughs. "The preachers' daughter, what a fucking cliche you are." She begins walking again. "I have French then."

"After lunch we have biology, then calculus."

"It's weird how we always have the same schedule." Emma sarcastically notes, they'd had the same schedule since middle school, he always made sure of it, well, Olivia always made sure of it.  "It's almost like you don't even care about your academic interests."

"Almost," he chuckles.

They take a seat next to each other at a long table in a brightly lit room. The walls are painted, clearly by students, and there is a group of freshman girls giggles from the other side of the room. She recognizes a few of them from that night at Scotty's."Fan clubs here," he whispers to her, a smirk growing on his face.

Even though Emma loved and cared about him, some parts of his personality were hard to stomach. If she didn't know him better she'd say he's bordering on being a sociopath. "They're actual children, Roman," She harshly whispers to him.

"I didn't say I wanted to fuck them, did I?" He turns to her. "Plus they think _we're_ fucking."

"No, but-" The teacher enters the room, abruptly cutting off what could have quickly turned into a very heated discussion

.....

They don't sit together at lunch, they never do. Emma has her own friends, and he likes to spend time with his sister and cousin. 

"You're the boyfriend's being real gross today," Kim says, slamming her tray down, starring at Emma.

"What did Roman do?" She asks, not even looking up from her textbook.

"Just look at him now," she nods to the bench across the sidewalk where he's sitting with Celeste. "She's a sweet girl."

"I'll talk to him." Emma glances up. "But I don't know what I can do. If she doesn't know by now..."

"Just talk to him. She's a nice girl." Emma sighs and stands.

"Fine, but only because she actually seems naive." She shuts her book. "Watch my stuff."  She quickly walks over to the table he's sitting at wanting to get this over with. Roman looks up to her with a curious face, Emma never approached him during lunch. "Can you give me a ride home this afternoon?"

"Actually, me and Cel-"

"Roman, please," She pouts, makes eye contact with him, and holds it.

"Okay."

...  
  
He slams his bag down next to her at the lab table. "What the fuck was that, Emma?"

"I may not have many," she turns to him, "But I do have some morals."

"What's that supposed mean?"

"It means Celeste Reed is a stupid little girl and you're being an asshole."

"She's only a year younger than us."

"And she's incredibly sheltered," she snaps back quickly. "Look, I let you be a dick to pretty much everyone, but this she's sweet, don't do this."

"Okay." He says calmly. Okay? Roman Godfrey never backs down. "I'll take your dumbass French class with you."

"Find a class you want to take."

"Fine, didn't want to take it anyways," he huffs.

....  
  
Emma finally catches a good look at the new guy, the gypsy. He's normal looking, nothing really stands out and he's not even that hairy. He tries to avoid it, but she catches him staring again and kicks him under his desk. In the hallway, people stare at the new boy as he walks. They don't get new kids often, but this is ridiculous. She catches wind of a rumor that he's a werewolf and actually laughs out loud at it. These people can't even come up with a good rumor for him. 

She considers approaching him but decides not to. He ends up being in a few of her classes and she catches Roman staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity. "You're being like, super gay right now." She whispers to him.

"What?" He's jerked from his stare.

"You're eye-fucking that guy." She nods towards the new guy.

"Am not," he hisses. She can tell he's trying his hardest to not look, but he can't help himself. Eventually, the bell rings, interrupting Roman. He stays quiet on the walk to the parking lot. 

"Okay, sorry for insulting your masculinity." Emma breaks the silence but he doesn't speak. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Get in," he unlocks the passenger side door to his car.

"Huh?"

"You said you needed a ride, so I'm giving you one."

"I was just-"

"Get in," he reiterates. She nods and gets in the car.

"Are you still upset?" Emma asks, hoping Roman isn't going to throw a fit.

"No," the car comes to life. "I just have a weird feeling."

"Weird how?"

"Like something bad is going to happen."

.....

  
Roman was right, something bad did happen. He had dropped her off at her home before going to god knows where to do god knows what. She knows him well, she knows the company he likes to keep, but he normally texts her back at some point in the night. His end is completely dead that night.

The next morning Emma walks into a half-empty school- the half that is there is sobbing. She didn't know Brooke that well, but she had cried a bit that morning while she was brushing her teeth. Looking in the mirror, all Emma could think about was how it could have been her. It's selfish, but she knew everyone was thinking it.

"You doing okay?" She asks Roman, who is peering into his locker.  
"Yeah.""It's okay if you're not." She places a hand on his should which he quickly shrugs off.

"I said I'm fine," he snaps.

"Okay."

"Sorry," he sighs. "I'm okay, didn't know her that well. This school has lost a really great pair of tits, they will be missed."

"That's it, joke the pain away."

...

The same routine happens again today, Roman sits in his seat, staring at the new guy. Emma thinks that he must have noticed him staring by now, but he hasn't said anything.

"Come over," Roman says, pulling her arm just a bit too tight.

"Why?"

"Because I asked."

"Mom doesn't want-"

"Emily," he turns to her. "A girl was found dead, tell your mom you're scared to be alone tonight."

"I'm not scared." She says but gives in any way, following him to his car.

"Maybe you should be." He opens her door for her. 

"Why?" She asks as he climbs in the car. "It's just a freak accident."

...

"Oh, Emma, I didn't expect you here this afternoon." The silky voice comes from around the corner.

"Sorry," Emma says quickly, dropping her ice cream spoon.

"Don't apologize, you know you're always welcome. Always." Olivia's hand rubs through Emma's hair, resting it on her shoulder. "What are you doing today."

"We have plans, Mother," Roman says, slamming his fist on the cabinet. She was always like this when Emma was around. Charming, loving, sweet. A liar.

"Well, dear," Olivia continues, Emma offers her a small smile, "I would like to have a girls day. I'm overwhelmed by testosterone and vague attempts of masculinity." Emma can't stop herself from chuckling at that.

"Why don't you take your daughter?" Roman asks, only getting more annoyed by the minute.

"I took Shelly shopping last week, now I would like to take Emily."

"Another day," Roman says quickly. "We're busy."

"Doing what exactly?" Roman takes a moment, having no plans in mind.

"Getting drunk by the pool," he says as quickly as the thought comes to his mind.

"Very well," Olivia rubs small circles in Emma's back. "Another day."

The two sit in silence until the clicking of her heels fades out. Emma stares at Roman, whose teeth are gritted tight. "Fucking cunt," he breathes. "She's only like that around you, you know that right?"

"Yeah."

Roman was right, Olivia only acted like that around Emma, and around people, she wanted something from. And she wanted something from her. She saw a lot of herself in the girl, but more importantly, she saw weakness.

Olivia was smarter than she let on, and she let on a lot. She knew Emma was weary of her, and always would be because of Roman, but she'd watch the girl grow up. She'd taken her school shopping, gave her her first tampon, had countless brunches, and most importantly, had encouraged her relationship with Roman. She didn't even really hate the girl.

However, Olivia loathed her mother. While she put on a very good show for the public, in private she would swear under her breath about the woman. Kay Parker was a good mom, or at least she could be. Her busy schedule kept her away from her daughter a lot, but she still tried to be a mother, and it was that attempt that pushed Olivia's buttons.

"Emma, go put your things in your room while your mother and I have tea." Olivia would wink at the girl, knowing full well Emma hadn't even stepped so much as a foot into the other bedroom. It was a show, Emma's mother was terrified of her daughter would get too close to Roman.Olivia could understand that concern, and maybe if the roles we reversed she'd feel the same way. But, the roles weren't reversed and she didn't give a damn about what Kay Parker wanted. 

She just wanted what was best for her son and it was the girl.

Roman had always had moods. He had too much growing up, she knew it was her fault but she couldn't stop herself. He was her perfect child, handsome, brave, and cruel. She would think to herself: he should have whatever he wanted, but he didn't always want the right things.

So she let them share a room- share a bed, "break" into the liquor cabinet, ignore the smell of weed, and basically live there all summer after their freshman year, and it took damn near all summer. She remembers the almost shocking level of pride she felt when they all ate breakfast together and the body language of the two teens had shifted.

But her efforts were in vain and her pride broke apart quickly. Roman, as she always knew he would, wanted the wrong things. He wanted a lot of the wrong things.She thought Emma might be heartbroken by his lack of affection, but they only became better friends. So Olivia did what Olivia did best, pushed harder.

If she could use the girl to dissuade Roman from indulging in his degenerate desires she would. The attitude, the drinking, the smoking, even the coke, she could look past. The public indulgence of whores was another thing. And so she pushed.

In the end, the girl would either leave for college and break her son's heart, or she would have to be taken care of. Olivia didn't have a preference....  
  
Emma and Roman mainly hang out at his house in silence. They get drunk by the pool as he had proposed. She reads a book for literature and he walks around stares out at the sky thinking about nothing in particular. At one point he drops his glass and she rushes over to help clean it up.

"Fuck." She lifts her hand to reveal a sliced thumb and, in her drunken state, laughs at the pain.

"Here." He grabs her hand and digs out the piece of glass before putting her thumb up to his lips, resisting a moan growing in his throat at the taste. He sucks until it's stopped bleeding.

"You shouldn't do that to other people." She's stopped laughing. "You don't know what's in their blood."

"I'll remember that." He releases her hand. "Let's get you a bandage."They go to his room, and Roman hands her a bandage from his bathroom. They sit on the bed and watch TV until accidentally falling asleep.Emma is suddenly pulled from her sleep by Roman shaking her. "Come on, we gotta go."

"Go where?" She doesn't move, head pounding. "I have a hangover."

"We gotta go see something."

"Let's go tomorrow." She rolls away from him.

"It's important, Em. Come one." He pulls her into a seated position then tosses her her shoes.

"Will you at least tell me where we're going?"

"No." He slides on a jacket.

"Fuck." She swears, then follows him to his car. The ride isn't long. Emma leans her head against the window looking up at the sporadic street lights passing by and wishing she was at home. "Aren't I supposed to be scared?"

"We'll find out." He pulls off into the dirt and turns off the car. She looks out and recognizes where she is.

"Roman." She hisses when he steps out and walks forward. "Roman!" She calls again, unbuckling her seat belt and running to catch up. "What are we doing here?"

"I've always wanted to fuck where someone died." Emma stares at him, not laughing at his sad attempt at a joke. "We're investigating." She takes a deep breath and continues to follow him knowing there's no way out.

"Is that really a thing?" She grabs his elbow. "You really want to fuck where someone died?" He doesn't answer and that makes her queasy until she realizes he's focused on a figure in the dark. They're not alone.

Roman continues to approach the figure until he comes into full view, Emma follows behind slowly. "What did it feel like?" Roman asks, startling the gypsy.

 


	3. Chapter 3 | With You |

"What did what feel like." The kid looks up through his shaggy hair.

"Killing that girl." Emma wants to say something but is too shocked at Roman's comment. Even for Roman, this was far.

"I didn't kill her." He looks between the two of them. "I figured it was you." His eyes land on Roman.

"Me? Why would I kill her?"

"Why are you out here late at night with a girl?" The gypsy hits him back.

"People say you're a werewolf." He dodges the question.

"Do you believe every rumor you hear?"

"Are you sure it wasn't you?" Roman is a little calmer now, but not completely.

"You can try and contain your disappointment." The two boys maintain eye contact until Peter holds out his hand. "Peter Rumancek."

"Roman Godfrey." He shakes Peters' hand. "Emma." He nods towards her. Peter gives her a nod and she returns it.

"Now that we've made our introductions, can someone please tell me why we're still here," Emma says in a pleading voice. "It's cold."

"I had a dream." The two boys say together. The moment is interrupted by police sirens and lights. She hears Peter mumble a fuck under his breath. Emma doesn't panic, she never panics about trouble when she's with Roman.

The cops get out of the car and walk towards them, flashlight out. "You know it's a school night." One of them says.

"I'm a night owl." Roman replies with a grin on his face.

"What are you kids doing out here?" The other one asks.

"Having a conversation." Roman replies.

"About what?"

"The impending doom of death."

"Sure you were." The cop approaches flashlight out. "Now what are you really doing?"

"Mourning a classmate, doing drugs, weird threesome, blood pact, take your pick," Roman says laughing.

"Okay, come one time to go." The other cop approaches.

"Come on," Roman looks at the smaller one. "You know my old lady's going to be a pain in the balls."

"His old lady is going to be a pain in the balls." He repeats. His partner looks over to him shocked.

"It's true." Roman holds his stare.

"It's true." The man repeats and returns to the car.

"Creepy fucker." The other one says before following behind to the car. Roman turns around, wipes under his nose then nods to Emma.

"Let's go." He calls to her.

"What the fuck was that?" Peter comes closer to Roman.

"What was what?" Roman replies.

"The thing, they did what you said." Peter's eyes are wide and his brows are pursed together.

"I just made an observation about my mother. I didn't know it would actually work." Roman lies.....The next day at school they all act like nothing happened, not even a hint of eye contact. At lunch all Emma's friends can seem to talk about is the dance that night, having already forgotten a girl had died.

"Did you hear what your man did today?" Ally whispers to her, none of the other girls notice. They don't, they continue on with their conversation about costumes.

"Are you ever going to let it die?" Emma asks, getting annoyed at her friend's constant pestering about Roman being her boyfriend. It had a few funny moments, but it often got old, and it got annoying when they expected her to "handle" him.

"He went down on a girl in the bathroom during 4th period." She says as if it's scandalous.

"Yeah?" Emma was fully aware of her friend's sexual escapades, often more aware than she would like to be. It always amazed her that people were still shocked at his behavior, it was Roman after all. Half the town has seen him paying hookers before. "It's Roman Godfrey, he does shit like that all the time."

"Emma." She leans in closer. "She was on her period." Her jaw drops at that. "I know right." Ally shakes her arm.

"How do you know?" Emma looks up to make sure no one is listening.

"She borrowed a tampon from me." Emma looks over at Roman who is innocently conversing with Shelly. "She went to the bathroom, then he like, immediately followed. Everyone heard."

"Holy shit." Emma can't hold back her shock. "That's fucked.. Does anyone else know?"

"No." Ally shakes her head. "Just you. I wonder if that's like his thing."

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out." Roman catches her looking at him and waves. "Let's talk about something else."

"Are you going with him to the dance?"

"What's with all the Roman questions?" Emma chuckles.

"Well, first off you guys are like the original otp." Emma cringes at the attempt at hip lingo. "And second, if you're with him he won't be paying attention to Letha. And if he's not watching her she'll be with Tyler."

"Okay, First: never say OTP out-loud again." She lets out a low laugh. "Second: I don't know why you all think I have any form of control over him."

"Because you do." Emma rolls her eyes.

......

The last bell rings and Emma heads to her locker to grab her books. From the corner of her eye, she can see Peter heading to his locker as well. As he passes through the hallway some boys start howling at him. Emma slams her locker shut and approaches Peter. "That's weird." She observes.

"Werewolf, remember?" He laughs as if she could forget.

"Why do people say that?"

"My index and middle fingers are the same length." He holds his hand up to show her. "And I'm apparently hairy."

"You're really not." Emma chuckles. "Shaggy? Yes. Hairy? Not at all."

"Thank you, that's a first." He shuts his locker. They begin walking down the hall. She spots Roman in a crowd of girls talking to him about homecoming and gives him a nod. He doesn't return it. "You don't have a problem with that?" Peter asks looking at the girls.

"What do you mean?" She asks as they turn a corner.

"You're boyfriend, with all those girls."

"Roman's not my boyfriend." She snaps. "Sorry, I get that a lot."

"Oh good." He says quickly. "Not good as in like, good you're not dating him, but like good because I definitely thought he was cheating on you." He flips his hair in front of his face, flustered.

"That bathroom thing?" Emma laughs.

"Uh- yeah I was in the hallway.."

"I'd like to extend an apology on his behalf." Peter opens the door and holds it for her. "But he's pretty shameless so I can't." They step out into the crisp early autumn weather. The trees are mostly orange, but there are still sporadic shades of green popping out. "You going to the homecoming dance thing tonight?"

"Nah." He shakes his head. "Not really my thing."

"Understood." She bites her lip before biting the bullet. "What about the bonfire afterwards? It's like more of a party and it'll be fun. You could come with me and Roman and his cousin."

"Maybe." Peter offers knowing full well he won't go.

"Let me give you my number, in case you decide to." She pulls out a pen and scribbles it on a piece of paper.

"I could just give you my phone?"

"I'm old fashioned." She hands it to him.

"Cool, thanks." Right then a short girl bumps into him, hard, and grunts. "Oh hey, Hemingway."

"Don't talk to me." She snaps and keeps moving, not even looking back..

"You know her?" Emma asks, surprised.

"I thought so. She used to come around to mine during the summer, just showed up really."

"She's an absolute freak," Emma says quietly. "Completely crazy. She used to stalk Roman around when we were in middle school. She's younger than us, though, so I always thought it was a crush thing, but she was convinced he had like a secret power or something."

"She seemed nice at the beginning of summer," Peter says. "It's disappointing."

"So the bonfire?" Emma changes the subject not wanting to linger on the strange girl. "Just text me and we'll come to get you, yeah?"

"Yeah, totally." He walks towards the bus. "See you, Emma."

"Bye." She calls back.

"Got a new friend?" She hears and looks behind her to see Roman standing uncomfortably close to her.

"Holy shit." She gasps. "You can't do that to people."

"I'm giving you a ride home and I'm gonna pick you up for the dance." He tells her, hand pushing her lower back towards his car.

"I can walk." She says.

"Not with this whole mess going on. I can't have you mauled by that fucking bear, my mom would kill me."

"Your mom is weird." She starts to walk away.

"Oh, I know."...At home, Emma sits at the dining room table and does her homework. She puts on her headphones and listens to music, tapping her pencil to the beat. Her phone vibrates and she grabs it hoping it's Peter, but it's Ally. She should have gotten his number.

A: How slutty are you going for?

E: Not at all.

Ally: Damn.

Emma rolls her eyes and continues working on her homework.

She's just finished cooking dinner as the sun is going down. She hears shuffling from upstairs. Kay comes downstairs dressed in her blue scrubs. "Smells good." She comments.

"Thanks." Emma hands her a plate. "Your lunch is in the fridge."

"Thank you, Emily." She smiles and nods to her mom. "I'm serious, you're such a good kid. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." She takes a seat across from her.

"I don't know what I'm going to do next year without you. It's going to be quiet around here for sure."

"Let's get a cat," Emma suggests.

"I'll think about it, it's just more work to worry about." Kay takes a drink. "Be safe tonight, okay?"

"I will, I will."

"Em, I know you keep hearing it, but whatever killed that girl is still probably out there. You come straight home after the dance." Emily nods. "And Roman can stay, but he-"

"Has to sleep on the couch. I know I know." She finishes her mother's sentence. "He's not going to, he's going to have Letha with him."

"And make sure you lock up, lock your bedroom too."

"Always do." She stands at takes her plate to the sink. She goes upstairs to put on her costume and do her hair. She hears a knock downstairs. Kay and Roman begin conversing, but she can't make out what they're saying.

"Who are you supposed to be?" He asks when she enters the living room.

"Princess Leia."

"Who?" He looks Emma up and down.

"Princess Leia?" She cocks her head. "From Star Wars?"

"Em, I told you I'm too attractive to watch those movies." Kay laughs loudly at that.

"You guys be good tonight, okay? Stay safe, don't do drugs, you know the deal." Emma heads to the door followed by Roman. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"By mom!" She calls, closing the door.

"So drugs?" He asks as soon as the door has clicked.

She sits in the passenger seat and fiddles with the radio. Roman drives them to the back end of a park where no one would bother them. They lean against the hood of his car passing a joint back and forth. "Am I a sociopath?" He asks between takes.

"I don't think so." He passes it to her. "Why?"

"Just something someone said."

"I think you can be cold a lot. To most people." She takes a hit and coughs a little. "But you have too many feelings to be a sociopath. The way you care for your sister and Letha, you've got something in there."

"You think I'm cold?"

"You know your cold." She hands it to him. "You know you're an asshole most of the time."

"I don't mean to be. I don't think I do anyway." Roman always gets sad when he's only smoking weed. If he's crossfaded fine. When you bring coke into the mix he's doing great. She likes him the most like this, honest.

"I think you've got that affluenza thing."

"Do you think it's possible for your parents to fuck you up so bad that you don't have feelings? Like I don't feel for other people."

"Yeah." Emma nods. "I don't know what your mom is really like, y'know. It's all fake around me."

"Only you." He reminds her. "Even Letha gets it, and she's related to her." He looks at the watch on his wrist. "Speaking of which, we need to go get her before it gets any later." ....

"Ally!" Emma chases her in the parking lot, shoes in hand. "Ally!" The girl finally hears her.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Can I catch a ride with you? Roman is MIA." She checks the parking lot again for the bright red car but he's gone.

"Yeah of course."

Emma sits in the back of Ally's old Subaru smoking a cigarette she bummed from Scotty. She hates smoking, she hates the smell, the taste, but somehow when she's out with girl friends it doesn't bother her. She's never smoked in front of Roman, and often nags him to stop, but with Ally and Kim, it's different.

She hears her phone vibrate from her purse and grabs it. She expects an apology from Roman but instead, it's a text from an unknown number. "Hey, Al." She says, breaking up the conversation in the front of the car. "Can we make a pit stop?"

At the bonfire, Emma stays close to Peter. She's fully aware of the looks she's being given, even by her friends. "I'm gonna grab us drinks." She tells him and walks towards the porch where a table filled with liquor is set up. She feels a hand on her shoulder and quickly turns to see Ally and Kim.

"Are you like gonna fuck him?" Kim asks bluntly.

"No, he's just new and he's nice."

"I think you should fuck him." Ally says. "I wonder what his dick looks like."

"Do you think he's like super bushy?" Kim giggles.

"You guys are disgusting and I'm taking my drinks and walking away." She begins pouring two drinks.

"Look, if you like the dude go for it," Ally says quietly, leaning into Emma's ear.

"I just met him?"

Emma returns to Peter and hands him his cup. They make small talk, and it's not awkward, but she feels bad that he can't just go to a bonfire without people glaring at him.

"Emma!" Someone yells, causing a few heads to turn.

Roman stumbles to the yard, even more, drunk than he was at the dance. "Emma!" He waves to her from the other side. "Petey!" He runs jogs to them. "If you'll excuse us, I need to borrow Emma." Peter doesn't even answer before she's pulled away by Roman.

"Okay first." He slurs out. "Are you like gonna fuck him?"

"Can I not invite someone to a party just to hang out with?"

"I wonder what his dick looks like." Roman stares at Peter, head cocked. Emma doesn't know how to reply. "Anyways, I got some surprising news!" He raises his hands up, almost falling over. She grabs his tall body and pushes him back upright. "Letha, you know my cousin Letha, she is pregnant."

"What?" Letha? Sweet innocent Letha?

"Yeah, exactly." His eyes are crazed. "Let's go do shots."

"Let's take you home. You're absolutely wrecked."

After a few minutes of arguing and reminding him that she knows how to drive a manual car, she gets his keys. With an apologetic look, she offers to take Peter home. He accepts and the three of them pile into the Jag. The two boys legs are squished together in the tiny space and halfway to Peters home, she notices Roman has fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Emma says quietly as Peter gets out the car.

"It's okay, I promise." He helps her shift Roman over. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course. I'll make it up to you."

"No, seriously, inviting me was really nice."When she's on to her street, Roman starts to wake up a bit. She parks on the road and opens the door for him. When his legs swing out of the car he instantly throws up, Emma barely dodges it.

 

"Come on, let's get you inside." He stumbles, leaning on her shoulder for support. He falls onto the couch as soon as the door is open.

Emma grabs him a glass of water and a couple of pieces of bread. He drinks the water down in one chug. "I want a smoke." Roman mumbles.

"Okay, let's go to the porch." He manages to make it to the back porch mostly on his own. He takes a seat on the stairs and pulls out a joint which surprises her. Usually when Roman wants to smoke it's a cigarette. They pass it back and forth mainly in silence.

"I'm too drunk," Roman says into the darkness.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I am." He lets out a large cloud of smoke, finishing the joint. He makes it back to the living room on his own and crashes down on the couch. Emma grabs him another water and one for herself as well. She passes by a box of Oreos and grabs them as well. "Come cuddle." She stops walking, shocked. Roman Godfrey was not a cuddler.

"Roman?"

"I know it's weird." He takes the water from her. "I'm sad."

"Why?" Emma takes a seat next to him and grabs a cookie. "Because of Letha?"

"Kinda." He grabs one as well. "I'm so confused."

"Do you know who he dad is?"

"Nope. Another kid without a dad." He grabs another cookie. "Do you miss your dad?"

"No." She says without hesitation. She barely remembers her dad. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Roman says without looking at her. "I think he would have been a good dad. I think he was a good dad until he blew his brains out." This makes Emma uncomfortable but brutality is the only way Roman copes. "I think my dad would have been a hugger. My mom never hugged me."

"I know." She says feeling true sympathy for the boy who had it all. Emma wiggles herself down to where she's almost spooning him but not completely. She stays there until she's sure he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: the next two chapters are gonna kinda long. After that it should go back to normal, but I want the core of the story to get started but I also need to establish a lot of stuff so yeah.
> 
> Also, I'm super into the homoerotic "friendship" that Roman and Peter have so I will be def buying into that.
> 
> If you guys have any suggestions or critiques I would love for you to send them to me! Do you guys like Emma/Roman or Emma/Peter?


	4. Chapter 4 | Someones Gotta Help Me Dig |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is long af

  
Emma jerks awake to the sound of knocking on her door. It's still dark out. Roman enters her room. "I'm leaving come lock the door behind me. He doesn't wait on a response so she follows him down the stairs. He hesitates before opening the door. "Please don't tell anyone what I told you, about Letha."

"I would never." He nods and steps outside and to his car without looking back.

....

A paper ball hits her head, it came from Roman's direction. "Fuck you," She mouths and flips him off.

"Pass it to Peter." He mouths back. She hands it up to him and peers over his should as he opens it. _Can I watch?_

Emma looks over to Roman, eyes squinting, confused by his question. Roman smirks back to her. "Is there something interesting happening that we're all missing, Miss Parker?" The teacher calls from her desk. Emma shakes her head. "Mr. Godfrey?" He shakes his head as well.

Her leg bounces up and down in anticipation for the bell to ring. She has no idea what this is about, and Roman has barely spoken today which is unusual for him. She assumes he's hungover, he has to be, but even hungover Roman was more talkative. She wants to ask him about Letha, about what happened last night.

When the bell finally rings Peter quickly grabs Romans arm and pulls him to his locker. Emma eyes them from hers as she puts up her books. They speak quietly and close to one another, making it impossible to read their lips. Peter nods to Roman and walks away.

Roman sees Emma looking over and moves towards her. She meets him in the middle of the hallway. He wraps an arm around her shoulder. "We have plans tonight, tell your mom you're staying at mine."

"Are we going to watch Peter jerk off?" Roman doesn't answer, he only laughs.

...

They pull into Peter's driveway and get out of the car. The pair had sat in mostly silence for the afternoon, Roman still unwilling to explain what was happening. The sun's starting to set and a chill is moving in. Emma follows quickly behind Roman. He taps on the front door and she can hear a bit of movement within the trailer.

"Roman, I said you could come. I didn't agree to anyone else." Peter hisses to him through the half-open door. Emma feels like a third wheel looking in.

"Look, where I go, she goes," Roman shrugs. "And, she invited you to that party when no one liked you."

"You're an asshole, Godfrey. Come on." He waves to Emma and opens the door.

"What's going on?" A voice comes from the kitchen.

"Roman and Emma are here," Peter replies with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Emma?" The woman appears. "I didn't know an Emma was coming." She smiles at Emma and Roman.

"This is my mom, Lynda."

"I thought it was your sister." Roman smiles trying to charm the woman. She doesn't buy it.

"It's nice to meet both of you, even under the circumstances."

"It's nice to meet you too." Emma smiles.

They stand in awkward silence for a moment until Peter asks if they want to sit. They sit on the couch together. "So, what're your plans after graduation?" She asks. taking a seat across from them.

"My mom will probably bribe my way into wherever she wants me to go." Roman shrugs as if that were a normal thing to say.

"You'll take over the family business I assume?" She asks Roman and he nods. Lynda looks at Emma.

"Probably Penn State. I'm hoping I'll get accepted to U Penn, but probably not."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to be an anesthesiologist," Emma explains.

"She wants to work for me." Roman jokes, pushing her shoulder. No one laughs.

"Interesting." Lynda nods.

Emma still doesn't understand what she's doing here. Did Roman just really really want to meet Peter's mom for some reason? No, that couldn't be it. They have mindless chatter until the sun is shining its last rays. Emma keeps trying to make eye contact with Roman, read his face or something, but he dodges it. Peter seems to catch this.

"Do you even know why you're here, Emma?" She shakes her head. "This should be... interesting." He clicks his tongue.

"What's going on?"

"It's a secret, obviously," Peter explains. "You gotta keep it a secret. Promise?" He holds his pinky out to her. She looks up at him, then, with a bit of hesitation, wraps her pinky around his.

"Promise."

"Let's just go outside. It's almost time." He says, walking out the door not waiting for anyone.

"Is he.. still him?" Roman asks Lynda.

"He's a good boy," Lynda says holding the door open for Roman and Emma. "My handsome little man."

"Mom." Peter pleads.

"What? You're my sweet boy."

Peter looks around the yard and nods to Roman. He begins undressing leaving Emma confused. "Are we actually watching Peter jerk off?" She whispers to Roman and laughs. Roman either ignores her or doesn't hear her, he stays focused on the stripping boy before them.

"Aw darn, I forgot to bring a frisbee." Roman laughs at his own joke. Peter flips him off. "What does the G stand for?"

"Go suck an egg."

It happens at an agonizingly slow pace in her mind.

The transformation didn't bother Emma very much. The eyes falling out was weird but now gross. She was mainly curious about how his body is able to recreate itself. She'll have to ask him tomorrow.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Roman says to himself.

When he starts eating his own skin she thinks she's going to vomit. Roman, in his stereotypical boy fashion, laughs at her gagging. "Don't be such a girl."

"Say what you want, but that is gross."

....

They fall asleep on the couch. Well, technically she falls asleep on the couch. Roman falls asleep on her. She wakes up with a crick in her neck from the odd position he put her body in. The sun is peaking in through the window across from them into her eyes. A shadow walks past it then Peter enters, barely covered by a towel.

Roman jolts awake at the sound of the door. Peter stops in his tracks. "There's something out there. A smell."

"What? Like milk bone."

"Ha ha," Peter says sarcastically. "No, something's killing those girls, and it's not good." Emma looks between Peter and Roman, brows furrowed in concern.

"Do you guys want any coffee?" Lynda offers.

"I'm fine, thank you." Emma answers then looks at Roman.

"We actually should head out to get ready for school." He explains. "Peter, do you want a ride?" Peter doesn't answer, he's fast asleep on the couch.

"It takes a lot out of him." Lynda moves to grab a blanket for him. She takes the extra time to tuck him. "You guys be safe, and remember scouts honor."

Roman and Emma head back to his house to grab a couple minutes of sleep before school. They end up falling asleep and go in two hours late. At lunch, Emma sticks by Roman, ignoring looks from her friends. Something important was happening and she didn't want to miss it. The day goes by mostly in a haze due to her exhaustion.

She accepts a ride home from Roman, wanting to save her energy for homework. She can tell he's tired too because he chain smokes the whole way. "I heard something today."

"What'd you hear?" He laughs, not surprised by anything people say anymore.

"I heard that you made two boys kiss," She pauses. "In the hallway."

"I didn't make them do anything," Roman looks at her seriously. "I just suggested that they embarrass themselves."

"By kissing?" She pushes.

"I suppose." Emma continues to look at him, a small smile forming. "What?! Look, they were being mean to Shelley. I'm not going to just stand there."

"I just think it's funny. It's a very interesting form of revenge."

"I do what I can," he shrugs.

"You're a big ole softie you know that?" She pokes the soft spot above his hip and he smacks her hand away.

"No, I'm not! You're just as cold-hearted as I am, you just won't admit it."

Inside, her mother sits on the couch watching TV. "You're up early," Emma notes.

"You weren't." Kay clicks off the remote, turning the TV off. "Got a call from the school today. You and Roman came in late?"

"Uh-yeah... Sorry, Mom. Alarm didn't go off this morning." She sets her backpack down on the floor anticipating an explosion.

"You didn't tell me you were staying at Roman's." Kay's voice stays steady and stern. "You're supposed to tell me these things."

"I didn't mean to stay over. We were studying and it got late, things are getting scary. I don't know if you heard, but another girl got killed."

"I heard, her body came to the hospital. I pay attention to these things, Emily. Do you think when I'm not here I don't worry about you?" Her mother leans forward. "Look, I can't control the things you do. I can tell you not to go somewhere, but I can't be here to enforce, so I have to trust you. It takes two seconds to text me you're staying at Roman's"

"I thought you would be mad," Emma admits. Even though she wasn't actually at Roman's, she usually doesn't tell her mom when she is.

"Do I like you being there? No. I don't like my teenage daughter staying the night at a boys house, and his mom really creeps me out," Kay says, causing Emma to chuckle. "I'm serious! I don't like it but.."

"But?"

"But it's Roman. I taught that kid how to read, and I've seen him grow up, and I trust him to look out for you. I'd rather you be there than anywhere else if you're afraid to be here alone," Kay leans back against the couch, relaxing a little.

"Thanks, mom," Emma nods to her.

"Be safe, keep your guard up. Whatever's out there, it's gruesome. Poor girl never stood a chance."

Emma and her mother have dinner before she leaves for the hospital. Another nurse was sick so Kay was going to have to work a double. Emma makes her mom "lunch" (if eating at midnight could count as lunch) and says her goodbyes. She's finally settled into her desk with her biology book open when she gets a cal from Roman.

........

"Have a drink, on me," Roman winks at her as she walks into the bar. She takes a seat on the stool next to him. Emma wonders what event triggered this binge or if an event even triggered it.

"No."

"Come on, have one," He pushes his own drink to her lips. She pushes it away.

"You're drunk, and you need to leave."

"Not until you get as drunk as I am."

"No," Emma hisses at him. "These people know my mom, and unlike yours, she doesn't want me drinking."

"You're being a real see you next Tuesday," He gulps down the rest of his drink and motions for another.

"Yeah? Well you're being a real cunt," She says, teeth gritted.

"Peter doesn't want our help."

"Is that why we're here? Because you're mad a Peter?"

"Not mad, upset," Emma's eyebrows raise at that. "We can do it without him."

"You know what?" A man from down the bar calls to the two teens. "I have a great idea for you." The man is burly and well into his middle ages. Emma's heart speeds up, abort mission abort mission. Exit building. "There's a kids section over there, you probably should let the grown ups be."

"Excuse me," Emma stands, the man doesn't take his eyes off of Roman. "Who the fuck are you?" From the corner of her eye, she can see Roman's mouth drop open, excited for the fight Emma was going to put up.

"Sweetheart, let the men speak. Well the man and the boy speak," He smirks and chuckles at his own joke.

"I'm good, we're good," Roman puts his hand on the small of her back, guiding her back to the stool. She sighs and takes a seat. Who the hell was this prick? It didn't matter- she needed to get Roman out before he got alcohol poisoning. "Whatever he's having, on me. In fact, another round for the whole bar."

"Nobody needs your fucking money," the man continues. Emma rolls her eyes and puts her head in her hands. "My brother lost his house because of your father."

"Fuck off," she jumps in before Roman can. This guy wouldn't touch her but he might try something with Roman. "You just said it yourself, his father, not him. So if you could just back off, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

The man stands and approaches the two kids. He's not as tall as Roman, but he is bulkier for sure. Emma sees the bartender reaching for the phone. She knows who he's going to call and that means it's time to leave. "I told you, sweetheart, this isn't about you."  He's getting rather close to the two of them. "Godfrey, tell your whore to sit down." Emma tries to stand but Roman pushes her back down.

"Have your brother call me," Roman lights another cigarette and laughs. "I have plenty." The guy snatches the cigarette and puts in into Roman's whiskey. This causes him to snap around and stand face to face with the guy. "Why don't you tell your brother to be a fucking man, huh?" The man looks ready to hit and she feels useless sitting there watching, wide-eyed.

"Do it. Hit him." Emma lets out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Olivia would handle this. She walks past Roman, glaring at him, and straight to Emma.

"Emma, dear," Olivia caresses Emma's face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Emma nods, unable to look away from her. "Let's go."

"Roman, please apologize to Emma for what happened in front of her," Roman mumbles a fake apology while climbing into the passenger seat. "I have to get back to the tower," she gently cups Emma's face. "Take him home and take good care of him. Let your mother know you're staying over. Tell her that I'm afraid to let you be home alone, nothing can happen to you. Roman needs you to take care of him, do it."

Olivia is right Emma thinks to herself. Roman did need her help and she wanted to help him. She also thinks it's nice that Olivia cares so much about her safety. It made her sad that Roman couldn't have moments like this with his mother. She could tell that she loved her son very much. Maybe Roman wouldn't reciprocate.

Emma helps the shit-faced boy from Olivia's car to his car and takes the keys. She drives them to his house without a single thought. Her foot moves on and off the throttle and her hand shifts gears, taking on a mind of their own. Take him home. Take him home. She doesn't even bother to park the car in its normal space, she parks in next to the door.

Roman's smoked two or three cigarettes at that point and manages to make it to his room with minimal help from Emma. From there she does exactly as Olivia told her, she takes care of Roman. She brings him dinner and holds trashcan in front of him when he throws it all up. Roman never throughs up. She brings him an ice pack for his head, bypassing all the house workers attempts at telling her they could handle Roman. She even runs him the bubble bath that he begged for.

She sits on the bed waiting for him to finish his bath. "Em, come here!" He calls to her from the other side of the door. She comes and cracks the door open. "You can come in, it's a bubble bath, my dick is covered." Emma enters and sits on the side of the tub. He hands her the half-smoked joint.

"What's up?"

"I'm going to have feelings for like half a second then I'm crawling back into my shelf," He warns her. "You're a good friend. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you."

......

The next day Peter has returned to school and seems to have recharged. He's smiling and has a bouncy walk to him. Emma finds him in the hallway with Shelley. He has three oranges and is doing a poor job at trying to juggle them. Emma stops to stand with them. "He's going in again for another try.." She narrates. "Will he get it this time?" Peter drops an orange. "OH no, looks like he's lost it again." Shelley laughs at this.

"What is this? The circus?" They hear Roman approaching, he's followed by Letha. "Got any other tricks?"

"Lots of tricks, just not with the ladies around." Emma chuckles. From the corner of her eye, she can see Letha's face turn a soft shade of pink.

"Have you met my cousin Letha?" He nods his head towards her.

"I have not. I'm Peter." He holds his hand out to her for a shake, but she just glances at him.

"Do you remember that guy in the middle of the road after the dance?"Roman looks to Letha. "The one who saw Brooke? I was thinking maybe you could talk to your old man, see if he knows anything?" This catches Emma's attention. She didn't know about this.

"Like what?" Letha asks.

"Like something that might not have made the papers."

"Roman, what are you up to?" Letha's voice changes from confused to concerned.

"Hunting the demon dog," Peter tells her like it's completely normal to hunt a demon dog.

"No, you're not."

"We think the demon dog might be a person," Roman elaborates.

"Are you high?"

"That's beside the point," Roman keeps on. "This guy is hurting people."

"Okay, A: It's not a guy, it's an it," Letha starts. "B: Say it is a guy. You can't seriously think you can handle it better than a professional. And C: What's a psychiatric patient going to tell you?"

"So that's a yes?" Roman smiles to her.

"Say it is a person. What're you going to do when you find them?"

"Put him in the pound," Roman says and Peter laughs at this.

The end of the day comes quickly and Emma is ready for a nap. She's starting her walk home, headphones in and a podcast playing. Suddenly two hands grab her shoulder. She puts her hands up ready to claw whoever it is with what little fingernails she has. It's Roman, of course, and she huffs and him. "You can't do that to women!" She yells but he's laughing at her. "Seriously, I thought you were going to kidnap and rape me or something."

"Emily, you are so dramatic," He smirks then laces his arm with hers. "I'm giving you a ride home." She knows that it's a losing fight so she follows him to his car. Peter's seated in the passenger seat.

"Hey."

"Hi," She greets him back.

Emma climbs over Peter to the middle seat. She tries but fails, to make as little contact as possible. Roman glares at the pair as he turns the car. "You could have gotten out of her way," He barks at Peter. They share a look before he puts the car into gear and drives through the main part of the town. He drives right past Emma's house.

"Hey!" She snaps her fingers in front of him. "Earth to Roman, that was my house."

"You're staying at my house."

"I want to go home."

"Same thing," He mumbles. "Look, I don't want you alone overnight. You can keep Shelley company or drink a glass of wine with your best friend."

"My best friend?"

"Yeah my mom," Emily rolls her eyes at this.

"And where are you going to be?" She asks not wanting to initiate a conflict.

"Peter and I have some business to attend to."

"What business?" Roman ignores her so she looks to Peter. "What business?"

"We're digging up Lisa Willoughby," Peter answers.

"Why?"

"Peter's cousin is going to do some voodoo witch stuff with her guts," Roman cracks his window and lights a cigarette.

"And you just weren't going to tell me?" Roman nods yes. "Roman, you have to decide if you want me in this or not. You can't half-ass me like this."

"Half ass you?"

"Take me to where she was killed, make me see Peter turn, then not tell me what you're planning to do next," Emma crosses her arms. "I'm either in this or I have to stay away while you are." The two boys glance between each other.

"She's in this," Peter speaks first. "She's in too deep."

"Okay," Roman accepts defeat.

"It's a vargulf," Peter turns to Emma.

"A what?"

"It's like a disease. A rabid werewolf," he starts. "It doesn't eat what it attacks, it's scent is just anger. I can recognize smells when I turn. Joy, fear, love lust.. but this thing was all anger."

"So it's out for blood?" Emma asks.

"He looks like a fucking idiot!" Emma points out before Peter can. Emma and Peter are both wearing normal clothes but Roman came dressed in full black. Roman strides in front of her, proud of his grave robber disguise. The cemetery is dark and eerie. She'd never admit it, but it gave Emma goosebumps.

"I'm just trying to look like Peter."

Roman tosses the other boy a shovel and they get started. She sits watching the two boys digging. She can't help but stare at Peters' arms, sweat glistening in the moonlight. Roman catches this and scowls at her. She cocks her head back at him and he looks away quickly.

The two boys dig and dig and dig until she hears a thunk. She can't help herself, she wants to see how the body has decayed. She peaks over just in time to see them open the coffin and find it empty.

"What the fuck?" Roman asks.

"Wrong side." Peter grabs the other side. He reveals the top half of the dead girl. Her body has barely changed. She looks at peace. Peter ruins that by slicing her stomach open. He yanks the girl's intestines out and puts them in a jar.

"We've got company," Emma says quickly. She helps the boys out to the best of her ability and they run until they're out of breath and at Romans car. They stop to take a breath, Roman crouching and lighting a cigarette. The three look at each other and bust out laughing.

"Do you guys wanna go get high?" Roman asks. "I think I need it."

That's how they all end up on Roman's bedroom floor passing a joint between them. Peter thought it was strange that Roman seemed to only smoke joints but didn't bring it up. "That was almost really bad." Peter chuckles then takes a hit.

"There's no explaining that." Emma comments. "Sorry officer, we needed this for biology."

"Imagine showing up to class with a jar of human intestines," Peter says. It's not funny, but he and Emma laugh like it is. Roman looks over at them, annoyed at their happiness.

"Let's get some sleep," Roman suggests. "We've got a long day of witchcraft tomorrow."

"Destiny's not a witch, man. She's a psychic."

"Yeah Roman, she's a psychic," Emma teases him then puts out the joint. "You fucking idiot." She exaggerates her words to show she's joking but Roman doesn't seem to care.

"Well, I'm going to sleep," Roman says and climbs into his bed.

"You're right. It's been a long night." Peter concedes and crawls over to the blankets and pillows Roman had given him. He watches, surprised, as Emma gets into Roman's bed with him. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would share _anything_ , especially not a bed. He continues to watch as she turns off the lamp and lays relatively close to him.

Too close for normal friends. He wonders what the deal is with the kids in this town. His never met people like this and Peter's met lots of people. Maybe he's never spent as much time around them as he has with Emma and Roman, but Hemlock Grove had weird people. There was that Christina girl and her twin friends, the fact that these kids seemed to genuinely believe in werewolves, and of course, there was Emma and Roman.

 _'Maybe there's something in the water'_ he reasons.

"Is this technically a sleepover?" Roman asks curled up on his side of the bed. The sound of his voice in the darkness shocks both Peter and Emma.

"I think so," Peter replies.

"I've never had a sleepover before," Roman says in a monotone voice with just a hint of sadness.

"I've slept over plenty of times." Emma leans up on one arm.

"Yeah but you're you," Roman explains. "This is different because it's like friends."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for the second half of this chapter

Emma likes Peter, like _a lot_. She likes to sit in his living room floor and listen to him and his mom talk about everywhere they've lived, and how they just moved if they wanted to. Emma had only lived in two different places in her whole life, an apartment on one side of Hemlock Grove and the house she lives at now on the other side.

She learns quickly that his mother defies the gypsy stereotypes TV pushes. Lynda doesn't stay home and clean all day, she hustles. Peter says that when his dad was around she was different, but he barely remembers that. Emma knows what that's like.

Lynda always wraps up the night by feeding them some traditional Romani meal that Emma had never heard of before, then she heads to bed. The two teens move outside so Lynda can sleep in peace. They usually sit around the first smoking, or if they're feeling lazy they'll climb into the hammock.

In her memory, it feels like these experiences happened for months, but really it was only a week or so. It had just started after they took the jar of intestines to Destiny's apartment. Peter's cousin was something else, and maybe in a different situation, Emma would think she was cool. She actually had abilities and she swindled people out of money. It really sounds like the life.

Roman had picked her up from her house then picked Peter up. Emma desperately wanted her own car but it didn't seem likely in the future. She wasn't allowed to have a job, she had to focus on school. Good grades = good college = med school. That's the goal she reminded herself.

They pick up Peter and she scoots over to the middle to make room for him. He's got a bag of candy and the jar of guts in his hands. "Hello!" He says in a very cheerful town.

"How are you?" Emma asks.

"I'm alright, what have you been up to today?"

"Cleaning the house, watering plants, studying, thinking about how to kill a mythical monster, just the girly things."

"Ah yes, the girly things," Peter laughs. She loves his laugh. She thinks it's honest, Peter never fakes his emotions, good or bad. He has a kindness to him that boys here didn't have.

Yeah, Emma likes Peter quite a lot. But Peter likes Letha, sweet, sweet, Letha.

The two converse without the intervention of Roman. Peter tries to throw him a joke but it lands unreciprocated. "Are you okay?" Peter asks.

"I'm fine," Roman looks at him. "What about you? Did you have a good lunch with my cousin?" This stumps Emma a bit.

"Nutrition, they don't call it lunch anymore," Peter tries to lighten the mood. Roman stares daggers into him.

"Roman! Please, eyes on the road!" Emma yells as the cross the yellow line.

"Look, Roman, she pities me. That's it."

"Yeah," Roman says in a voice laced with hatred, "she's all heart." This all called for a very uncomfortable ride that wouldn't end soon enough. Emma's uncomfortable next to Peter, the potential ruined. It's not helped by the tension racing between the two boys.

The first thing Emma notices about Destiny is that she's whimsical and childish but at the same time very adult. Her personality is an interesting combination of those things. Her apartment has beads and tapestries hanging up, and plants in every window. She gives Peter a big hug when she sees him.

"Give me a second," she turns around. She walks a man out of her apartment.

"Happy customer?" Peter asks her as soon as the door is closed.

"I crushed a couple of blue pills into his tea and told him to take some vitamins, common sense stuff."

"Like when your doctor tells you to quit smoking."

"One size fits all," Destiny barely looks to Roman. When she does there's a bit of disgust on her face. Instead, she grabs his large hand and traces.

"See anything interesting?" He asks with the excitement of a child at a candy store. She drops his hand without an answer and looks at Emma. She moves to stand in front of her and looks her up and down.

"You have an interesting aura," She grabs her hand. "We'll speak later."

"Shee-it," Roman says under his breath.

"We have something for you," Peter says. He first pulls out the bag of candy and gives it to her.

"Oh, Orangies, how sweet!" Peter holds out the jar. "And tell me how this is better than running?" She takes it from him and smells it. She gestures for them to follow her to the kitchen. She pulls a worm from one of her plants and drops it into the jar. "Sorry, buddy."

"How long will this take?" Peter asks.

"Let's leave it overnight for good measure," she puts the jar on the counter. "We'll need some tequila."

"Is that part of it?" Roman asks.

"No. Get something in a pretty bottle. Silver's good.

 .....

Emma's been staying at the Godfrey house for a almost a week now. As much as she hates to admit it, everyone is right. Something about being home alone overnight doesn't sit well with her. Another body had turned up, this time in the woods about half a mile away from her house.

She sits at the dinner table with the family that night. Olivia had not so kindly suggested Peter leaves before dinner, Emma walks him to the door and hugs him goodbye. They depart, still without any ideas of how to get into Lisa Willoughby's house other than breaking and entering. It looked like their only option, so they "better be damn safe about it," as Roman said.

Olivia's sitting at the head of the table, as always. She's drinking a glass of dark red wine and demands the servant get Emma one as well. Emma tells her she's okay but Olivia insists. She takes a small sip before picking up her salad fork. "Emma," Olivia calls her attention, "drink up."

Emma instantly has the need to down the whole glass. She's never felt this thirsty before. It takes effort to slow down and she's finished with her first glass before she's finished with her salad. "Another glass for our guest please," Olivia snaps. Emma is thankful for her asking so she didn't have to. "The Gala is coming up."

"Oh yes," Emma takes a long drink. "I'm sure it'll be lovely."

"You must come," She smiles to the girl. "I insist."

"Okay," Emma smiles at her. "I'll come." On her right side, she can see Roman huff and roll his eyes. He doesn't understand why she just goes along with whatever his mother says.

"Tomorrow after school we'll find you a dress."

"Okay, tomorrow after school." This causes Roman to huff more.

"Is there something wrong, Roman?" Olivia asks.

"No," He looks to the butler in the corner. "Can I have a glass as well?" The butler comes forward bringing him a glass of wine.

"There, there," Olivia smiles, "that's better. A happy family." Shelley glances up at her mother then back down. "Drink." She says to Roman.

An hour, one meal, a small piece of cake, and 5 or maybe 6 glasses of wine later they're finally finished. Roman's family was so much more formal at dinner than Emma and her mother were, she could never get used to it. Emma stands from her seat wanting nothing more than to take off her formal dress and put on comfy clothes. She sways slightly once she's on her feet. Olivia bites her smirk back.

"Roman, help Emma to bed," She looks directly at her son. "I have to finish some work up. I'll be in my office." She stops in front of him and whispers something Emma can't make out.

Roman stands and tries to help her out the dining room. She's a little drunker than him, but not much. The thirst in her throat has finally gone away. They make it up the stairs together and she slams herself down onto his bed. She kicks off her heels and drags herself to a pillow. "Have you ever brought a hooker up here?"

"No, I don't bring girls to my house. Just the driveway," he chuckles.

"You don't fuck in your room?" She sits up halfway, leaning on her arms.

"No, just you." Emma looks down at the floor then lies back down. "I'm going to take a bath, you have clothes here?"

"Always," She slides off the bed makes her way towards the dresser drawer with her night clothes. She goes into the bathroom where Roman is sitting on the edge of the tub, water running. "I need to take a shower."

"Hop in the bath with me."

"You're disgusting," she laughs at his joke.

"We've bathed together before."

"When we were toddlers," Emma turns to him. "We're like grown-ups now."

"I've seen you naked."

"Yes, and what an honor that must be for you."

"Emma," she looks to him. "Get in the bath with me. It's not weird."

"Okay," her eyes become empty. _Of course, it's not weird she thinks_ to herself _I'm making it weird_. And that's how she ends up in the oversized tub, finally sobering up. The two pass a joint from his seemingly endless drug supply back and forth. Roman does a couple of lines and stares into nothing. When the water turns cold they wrap up in towels and fall asleep in them.

Roman's pacing in the foyer when the two return home. A butler carries in a large dress bag and a few other small bags. The sun is going down and it's making him even more restless. "What's going on?" Emma asks as she walks in. His hair is messy and he looks stressed.

"We have to meet Peter."

"Roman," Olivia enters. "Love, relax." She runs her fingers through his hair relaxing him.

"We have to go," He tells Emma again, this time a lot calmer.

"We just got back," Olivia answers for her. "You should see her dress, Emma go put on your dress." The girl nods obediently and takes the dress from the butler. She heads upstairs to Roman's room. "Darling," she approaches him again. "Please take a seat." He nods and takes a seat on the couch.

Upstairs Emma unzips the bag and finally takes a look at the price tag. She's not allowed to ask about money with Olivia, it's almost like she physically can't. She knows how rich the Godfrey's are but she's curious. Her jaw drops at the stupid amount of money Olivia spent on the Oscar de la Renta dress. If this is what she spent on Emma she can't imagine what she bought herself.

She remembers Olivia's order to put on the dress. She struggles but manages to get it zipped. Her feet pad down the hall and stairs to the living room. Olivia smiles at her creation. "She looks beautiful, tell her she looks beautiful."

"You look beautiful," Roman says as if he's been forced. He's restless and ready to go. She rushes to get dressed and meet him downstairs. "Come on, come on, come on," he waves her out the door.

"What's happening?"

"I got a call from my uncle Norman asking if I knew where Letha is," he unlocks the car.

"And?" Emma grabs her buckle.

"And, I think she's with Peter, and if she's with Peter I'm going to kill him." Emma rolls her eyes.

"You can't go around killing every guy that talks to Letha. She's pregnant, Roman, what else could happen?" Roman doesn't talk to her the rest of the way to the trailer. He looks at her once they're parked. "Go, I'm not going with you," she crosses her hands across her chest. "This is your issue."

Roman walks down to the trailer then turns around. His face is filled with rage. The stalks back to his car and slams the door when he gets in. He turns the car on and drives of so fast in frightens Emma. "What does like about him?" Roman asks, breaking the silence. "What does she see?"

"He's nice." She struggles, words burning as they came out.

"Nice?" He asks in a harsh tone.

"Yeah, I don't know. He's nice."

"Have you fucked him?"

"What the fuck is your issue?"

"I want to know why my cousin is so obsessed with this fucking gypsy!"

"Because he's nice to her!" She shouts over him, scaring him a little. "He doesn't treat Letha like a child, he treats her like the young woman she is. She's your cousin, Roman, not your daughter. If she wants to fuck Peter, she can fuck Peter."

"And what about you?" He asks, quiet this time.

"What about me?"

"Why do you like him?" Roman sighs. "Don't lie either, I always know when you're lying."

"He's nice."

"You've already said that." He pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

"He's sweet, he listens, he's.. he's caring, he's gentle."

"And you like that?" Emma nods in response. She can feel jealousy radiating off of him. She doesn't know if it's because Peter is taking away his cousin or his friend. "You know what, fuck you, fuck all three of you." He pushes the Jag into 5th, flying down the curvy road. Emma grabs onto the door.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She yells. "Slow down."

"All three of you, you're plotting against. You're all liars."

"I know this might shock you, but not everything is about you, Roman." She stares at him harshly. "You're such a fucking child." He grips the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. He won't look at her.

"I don't want you around him alone, you got it?"

"Do you have something to tell me, Godfrey?" Roman's head jerks towards her. She only calls him by her last name when she's pissed, like really pissed. "You in love with me or something?" Roman laughs a bitter laugh. "Because if you're not jealous then you have some real control issues you need to work through," She barks. "I'm not Shelley and I'm definitely not Letha, so don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do."

....

She hears a knock on the door. It's cold outside, and when the door opens a gust of wind chills her to her core. "Roman?" He stands there, just in a tee shirt, very out of character for him. "Come in, you must be freezing.." He comes in and, without any hesitation, continues in his path to her bedroom. Emma, still cold, grabs a cardigan and wraps it around her chest.

"Are you okay?" She asks, brushing his hair with her fingers. "You seem upset." He doesn't answer. "Is it about earlier? I'm not really mad. Just frustrated." No answer. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." He stays still. She looks away from him, giving him some space, and puts a blanket of his shoulders. It reminds her of when they were younger.

She jumps when she feels his ice-cold hand touch her face. He's still not speaking and his eyes look vacant.

He kisses her but she doesn't react, sitting there with her eyes wide open. He breaks away from and looks up into her eyes, his face looks so gentle, his lips soft like always. It would be hard for anyone to not kiss back, so she does. She breaks away from him and puts her hands on his face. "What's going on?" She asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Nothing." He mumbles, then tries to kiss her again. She dodges his face.

"Stop it." She pushes him back. He holds her head in place and kisses her again. "Roman, stop, you're hurting me." She slams her fists into his chest. "You're being an asshole." He laughs at her. Just sits there and laugh.

"I'm sorry." He smirks at her, but she swears she sees the sadness in his eyes then. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

He lunges at her, pulling the hair on the back to her head to force her down to the bed. The yank causes her to release a high pitched yelp. She continues to push at his chest once he's released her. "Roman, let me go. Stop!"

He straddles her, sick of her pushing him away. "Roman! Stop!" She begs, but it's like he can't even hear her. He yanks his belt out from its place and uses it to tie her hands to her headboard. She's still begging when he's finished with the knot. He puts the palm of his hand over her mouth and holds it shut. "Shut up." He says in a harsh tone.

It all happens so slowly but so fast. She can't figure out what it is. She's still trying to move away from him but it's no use.

She finally stops fighting and stays still. She doesn't want to think about it, so thinks about the French test she has coming up instead.

 _Construire_ to build

 _Casser_ to break

 _Regarder_ to watch

 _Rire_ to laugh

 _Pleurer_ to cry

And so on and so on...

When he notices she's looking to her side he roughly grabs her jaw and holds it, forcing her to look at him. She releases a high pitched sound of pain before trying to fade away again.

Looking just past him, she feels relaxed. It would be over soon. It would all be over soon. She's so relaxed she could fall asleep. The pain fades away into just an annoying rhythm. She's so calm that she doesn't notice his hands moving to her shoulder where his fingernails pierce her skin. The sudden sting pulls her from her trance and the gates break open. She finds her eyes acting on their own, giant tears rolling from her eyes back to her hair.

She keeps reminding herself it's almost over, but the pain only increases with his speed. Finally, he slams into her hard and lets out a low grunt.

In less than a second, he seems to remember who he is. He looks down to see what he's done. "Em.." He panics, staring at the girl struggling to breathe through her sobs. "Em... I don't-" He reaches up and unties her. "I don't know what just-."

She quickly backs herself into the furthest corner of the bed. He can't help but stare at the trail of blood and cum that follows her. He attempts to reach toward her, but she only pushes herself further back. "Please don't touch me." She begs, barely above a whisper. "Please."

He nods and stands up from the bed. She stays seated in bed until she hears his car pull off. Finally building up the courage, she finds herself standing in the shower even when the water has turned ice cold.

She can't go back into her room and chooses to stay on the couch until the sun is coming up. Kay comes in carrying breakfast. "What are you doing, Emily? You have school."

"I don't feel well." Kay comes and feels her head. Emma pulls the blanket closer, covering the bruises on her jaw.

"You don't feel warm, what's wrong?"

"My stomach hurts." She says and it's not a total lie.

"Okay, take it easy today. I'm going to eat and go to bed for a while." Emma nods. She stays on the couch for an hour or so before getting up. It takes everything in her to make it to her car, but the drive becomes a blur. Her body does what it must while her mind wanders away.

 


	6. Routines

She fills out paperwork and sits in a waiting room that's painted bright colors and has florescent lights flickering. Her name is called and she follows a nice nurse, Leah, to a room where she asks basic questions.

There's a sharp knock on the door and in frightens Emma into sitting up straight. A kind looking woman comes in. She's young, early 30's and smiles at her. "Hi Emily, my name is Doctor Cleary." She holds her hand out for a shake. "I'm here to help you okay?" She says and takes a seat. " Emma nods.

"Can you tell me what happened?" The doctor asks "With as much detail as you feel comfortable with." Emma doesn't know what to say. She just looks at the nurse sitting in front of her and shrugs. Leah scoots in a little closer and offers a small smile. "I want to help you, but I need you to tell me what happened."

She stays still, sitting on the table she feels like a frog in biology class. "I don't want to press charges," Emma says to her, speaking in a whisper.

"That's okay." She pats the girl's leg. "You don't have to, and you don't have to decide right now." Emma nods understanding but knowing she won't change her mind. "My concern, as your doctor, is to treat your injuries. What I'm asking you won't be shared unless you want it to."

"Okay."

"When did the assault take place?" Emma tells her the truth. "And where?" It's followed by a list of questions that she can't help but turn red when answering. Things that she didn't want to tell anyone. The questions continue to pour from the doctor's mouth. Emma slowly begins to tell the story in its entirety.

"It's not your fault. Hey, hey, look at me," Emma looks up. "It's not your fault. "

"I'm going to give you this paper skirt, okay?" The nurse hands it to here. "We're going to step out and let you change. When we come back we're going to do a physical examination." Emma shakes her head quickly. "Emily, it's important we make sure you're okay." She looks empathetically towards her. "We want to make sure you're not injured."

Emma sits up on the table while the doctor finishes her notes. She swivels back to face her when she's done. "Emma, it took a lot of courage for you to come to us today. All of us are extremely proud of you, I want you to know that." She leaves the office with an antibiotic prescription, self-help pamphlets, one plan-b tablet, and a significantly lower amount in her bank account. Out of habit she had handed them her insurance card but has to grab it back quickly. Her mom couldn't find out where she went.

She goes to a pharmacy a town over. It's not like she's buying anything to hide, it's that she herself wants to hide. The wait isn't too long and she makes it home in enough time to slip in before her mom wakes up. She sits down on the couch and skips through the channels unable to find anything entertaining.

When Kay wakes up Emma resumes the 'stomach bug' charade she had begun that morning. Her mom puts an extra plate of dinner in the microwave for her in case she gets hungry later. She doesn't.

Instead, Emma finds herself pulling spare blankets and pillows from her closet. She unfolds and places them carefully on the floor, making something resembling a bed. She knows she can't remain in the living room for another night.

The next several days happen in a blur of eating an occasional granola bar or bowl of cereal, watching TV, and ignoring texts from Ally and Kim asking where she is. She hasn't slept for more than a few hours in a row. She likes to try and sleep in the day when her mom is home and be alone at night.

The days have blended together and Emma knows she has to go back to school. Stomach bugs don't last this long. It's gotten late and she still hasn't fallen asleep. She decides now might be a good time for her to break her own rule of not drinking from her mother's limited amount of liquor.

Kay rarely drank, it reminded her of Emma's father and her own father. The bottle of rum was strictly meant for occasional summer mojitos on the porch. With her work schedule that never really happened. Emma doesn't even know how old the rum is but she takes a couple of swigs from it, fills the missing gap up with water, and returns to her room. It doesn't work exactly like she'd like it to, but she fades in and out of conciseness enough to consider it a night of sleep.

Emma finally comes back to school on Wednesday. She's careful to sit as far away from her friends. She looked sick. Maybe not to other people, but the group of people Emma surrounded herself with could tell almost instantly. People take notice of her moving from her normal seat next to Roman to one as far away as physically possible.

At lunch she takes a seat with her tray in the hallway, hoping to not be bothered. On the other side of campus Peter, Roman, Shelley, and Letha sit at a table under the tree. "What's wrong with her?" Peter finally asks. "Do you know?" He looks at Roman who shakes his head.

"She's probably having a bad day." Letha offers.

"She hasn't been in school for like a week."

"Maybe she's been sick?" She asks.

"I think she's mad at me," Roman looks up from his lunch. "I think I upset her."

"Think?" Peter asks and Roman shrugs. "I'm gonna go talk to her."

Peter searches through the cafeteria looking for her. He checks with Emma's friends to see if she had been sitting there, but they say they haven't seen her. He spends almost half of the break wandering around the school until he finds her in a side hallway alone. "Hey!" He calls out and she looks up. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Hi." She offers him a half smile.

"What are you doing all alone? Everything okay?"

"I'm fine." She pushes her peas around.

"Come sit with us." He kneels down next to her.

"I'm fine." She makes eye contact. For the first time, Peter sees her up close, eyes set back and dark, lips red and chapped, and her typically normal skin is splotchy and dry on her cheeks "I'm fine." She repeats.

"We've got supernatural events," he tries to joke. "Tonights the night, gotta make plans and stuff."

"You guys go on ahead without me," she forces out a small smile.

"Em," He sighs, "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" She nods. Peter stands and pats the top of her head. He returns outside to the table of rejects which is now void of the Roman.

"What do you think's wrong?" Letha asks, taking a bite from her sandwich.

"No idea," Peter shrugs.

"Maybe her other friends know. She probably told them," she offers.

"No, if she didn't tell Roman she wouldn't have told anyone else," he takes a bite from his sandwich. "Where's the large child now."

"Chasing after some girl," Shelley types out.

"Should've known."

 

On Friday Emma pushes herself to be around Ally and Kim, wanting to save face. Attention is the last thing she wants right now and acting normal will help. Sitting in the hallway during lunch just seemed weird. Of course, her friends ask what's wrong but she just says family issues and they let it go.

She hears about what happened at the steel mill at lunch. Apparently, the twins are giggling and telling everyone about Roman's French porn joke and how he's ' _such a bad boy._ ' She leaves the cafeteria quickly and wanders around the school until she sees him. He's sitting in the library, books piled high around him, working on what she assumes is a paper for English. "What happened?"

"Oh, now you want to be involved?" Peter doesn't look.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're okay," she means it. She doesn't want him pulled into Roman's dangerous and idiotic gimmicks. Peter didn't have a family name to get him out of jail or a mommy with endless supplies of money. She stands from the table when he doesn't answer. She knows when she's not wanted.

"I'm fine," he mumbles. "Had to walk home, but that's it."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks."

Emma leaves. She glances back once at the door, but he's still not looking at her. It's fine, it's for the best, she tells herself and returns to her lunch table. The girls around her giggle and laugh so she follows their lead. Laughing when the laugh, gasping when they gasp.

She walks home from school that day. She's got a book bag filled with biology work today and an SAT prep guide. She has to get her score up if she wants to get in anywhere good. Emma's feeling okay, ready to go home and move forward. The school year will end and she'll go to college far away from here.

It doesn't work out that way. The moment she gets home she has to take a mental break from the day, then that break turns into a nap, then that nap turns into hours of reality television, then that fades into drinking more of her mom's rum. Emma doesn't have an older sibling, but thankfully she knows someone who does.

To Ally: Hey, can you hook a bitch up with some tequila.

Ally: You know it. Venmo me, bitch.

When she finally falls asleep she dreams of driving by strange figures that line the highway sporadically. The vulture's peck at the bloody remains. As her car drives past one she realizes that it's a white horse there, it's eyes long gone.

 


	7. Pretty Head

And that's how it starts.

Emma's failing biology now, she's sure of that. She swears she's trying but maybe she just wasn't as smart as she thought she was. That has to be it. Sometimes you can feel really confident about something and then you realize you had no reason to at all. It's why she stopped playing the piano and gave up soccer. Her other classes aren't great, but they're not as bad. French was extremely hard to sit through. It felt like it dragged on and it bored her. Most days just felt long until she got home.

It had been a week since she returned to school. Emma had spent that first weekend around the house. She cleaned behind the fridge and under the oven. Kay was ecstatic to see the house the next morning. Monday comes, Tuesday comes, so on and so on, it's all the same. The same goddamn routine in motion. The same three dreams repeating. The same fluorescent light flicking above her during third period.

Emma doesn't know what she expected to happen. Part of her anticipated returning to school and acting like it never happened. Roman hasn't even tried to contact her. He doesn't look at her and if he does it's with disgust. It's almost like he's mad at her. The audacity.

She wants to throw away everything related to Roman in her room. She can't. The first box she pulls out has a picture of her, Roman, and Roman's dad in it. They're sitting at his desk at the tower. She barely remembers his dad, but she knew she loved him. Emma never loved her own dad.

She could never understand why his dad killed himself. He loved his son, loved his daughter, it broke Emma's heart even now. The picture behind it is just of her and Olivia at an early Godfrey Gala. They're wearing almost matching red dresses, Olivia only wore white now. Behind that photo was one of her and Roman at the awkward age of 13 or so at the pool.

She couldn't look further.

 

Her phone vibrates from the side table. It keeps going and going, and finally, she answers the unknown number. "Hello?"

"Emily Parker," she recognizes the voice. "Party at my place, you in?"

"Of course. See you there, Scotty."

"See ya."

It's almost midnight when she finishes making the long walk over, and it is a long walk. She's never made it before, always pulling up in the Jag. Emma enters the party and it's absurdly crowded and hot. She can feel a light gleam of sweat appearing on her body.

She looks around the living room until she sees Ally waving her over. Emma pushes her way through the crowd until she makes it to her friends. "Didn't think I'd see you here!" Ally yells over the music. "Didn't think you were paying attention at lunch today!"

"Scotty actually called me and asked me to come!"

"Scotty?" Ally questions and Emma nods. "That's cute! I like him! He's cool."

"He's nice," Emma agrees.

"Look, I left your tequila at my place, but you can have some of my Svedka."

"Thanks!" She takes the bottle from Ally's outreached hand and takes three giant swigs.

"Drink up!" Ally giggles and takes another drink when she gets the bottle back.

"Hey, Al.." Ally looks to her. "Do you uh- do you know-"

"Roman's coming. He might be here already, I haven't seen him."

"Cool, cool, thanks."

"I'll keep an eye out, be a watchdog," Ally says, but looks like there's more to say.

"What?"

"I was just wondering... Y'know, what's going on?"

"What's going on?"

"You've never gone this long without talking to Roman. The longest fight I've ever seen you have is like two days." Emma doesn't respond. "Just y'know, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Emma assures, "just sick of him, that's all."

"Good for you Em, you show him," Emma forces a smile and nod.

"I'm gonna go grab a beer."

In the kitchen, she digs a PBR out of the sink filled with ice. "Shotgun it," she hears from a voice behind her. She turns to see Scotty.

"Bet!" She laughs. "Give me something to stab it with." Scotty hands her his pocket knife.

"Good luck," he chuckles and she pushes the knife through the tin car. She brings it to her mouth and tries to keep up with the alcohol pouring into her mouth. Emma starts falling behind and struggling. Scotty grabs her hand finishes it for her, beer pouring on both during the movement. "Sorry about that. Can't have a girl die at my party."

"Thank you for your assistance."

"You smoke?" He asks and pulls out a carton of cigarettes. She shakes her head. "Well I need a smoke, but I'll see you around, yeah?"

Emma grabs another beer and manages to make her way back to Ally who is exactly where she left her. "Tyler's here tonight," Ally grabs her arm. She's sent off into a long spiel about how he had given up on Letha and how that weird freshman girl tried to get his attention but it doesn't matter now.

"Good luck with that whole mess," Emma laughs at her friend.

"Warning, Em," Kim pulls her sleeve. "Roman Godfrey at 11 o'clock."

"Who's he here with?" Ally asks. "Don't turn around, it's obvious."

"He is here with..." Kim stands on her toes to peek over the crowd. "Himself, he's here alone."

"I'm gonna go out back," Emma says, "get some air."

"Want me to come with you?" Ally offers.

"Nah, go get your man!" She nods toward Tyler.

Outside the patio is littered with red solo cups. Emma makes her way to a chair and takes a seat and sips her beer. Maybe she should just go home, she thinks. Being alone sounds really nice and maybe a nice warm shower. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping the concrete. "Hey, Emma right?"

"Yeah," she looks up to see the vaguely familiar boy take a seat. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you."

"I'm sorry, I'm Beck... Stevens. We had geometry together."

"Oh, yes!" She remembers the lanky boy from the second row. He always thought he was cooler than he was. Beck was high up there for sure, but he would never achieve his dream of being the it boy. He would never be Roman Godfrey. "I thought you graduated last year?"

"I did, I came back home for the weekend," he explains.

"Where do you go again?"

"Penn State."

"How's it going?" Half of her wants him to walk away and leave her alone with her drink, but the other half kind of likes the attention- likes that he remembered her.

"It's good, it's good," he takes a sip from his cup. "It's an adjustment for sure."

"I'm ready to go."

"You'll miss it when you're gone. you'll miss your friends, your family." Emily highly doubts this. "But the new people are great. You get to be whoever you want to be."

"Sounds nice," she sips, "I'd like to be someone else right now." It slips from her drunk mouth.

"I like you the way you are, you've always been cool." She smiles into her cup.

"Thanks."

"Wanna go back inside?" He asks. "You've gotta be cold in that dress."

"Yeah, let's go." Beck stands and holds a hand out to her. When she stands it fully occurs to her just how drunk she is. She stumbles within the first few steps and they both begin laughing about it. "Don't judge me, please."

"I am not, we've all been there," he holds her steady until they get inside. The house has only grown hotter as more people have arrived and weed fills the air. The music is louder. Beck assists her to an empty part of the wall in the hallway for her to lean back on. "See? Not to bad right?" She giggles.

"I would like another drink."

"I can't condone that," he stands in her way.

"Why?" She asks, yelling over the music.

"Because you're already pretty drunk and I wouldn't feel comfortable kissing you if you got drunker."

"You wanna kiss me?" He nods. "Catch up with me then," she taps his drink. He downs it pretty quick.

"I'm going to get another then I think we might be even." He leaves to make his way back to the kitchen. Emma peers over into the living room to see if her friends are still here. Ally sits on the couch snuggling up to Tyler. Emma rolls her eyes at the girl, never knowing what's good for her. On the other side, she sees Roman running his hands up and down some girls waist. She's never seen the poor girl so she assumes it's a freshman. "I will chug this in your honor," Beck scares her when he returns.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" She shouts as he pours the drink down his throat. He coughs and can't finish. "Aw, can't take it?"

"It's mostly vodka," he hands it to her and she takes a sip. She scrunches her face at the surprisingly high content of alcohol. "Wanna go upstairs?" She nods and follows him to a bonus room above the garage. "Me and Scotty are pretty chill so can't go into anywhere too private. Wouldn't do that to him."

The words have barely left his mouth before Emma's pulling at his hair to bring him down to her height. She violently brings his lips to hers. He pushes her to the wall, she smiles at the force and wraps her arms around his neck. "Fuck me," she whispers. He shakes his head eagerly.

The moment he breaches her, just barely, she has tears coming to her eyes. She knows realistically that it's been long enough that no injuries remain and she's pretty sure she's wet, but it still feels physically impossible. Like there's a barrier there and it does not want to be disturbed. It fucking hurts.

He doesn't move any further and just looks down at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just- I don't know."

"You're a virgin," he continues before she can correct him, "it's going to hurt. It always does. You'll bleed-"

"I'm not a virgin," she snickers at him.

"You're not?" She shakes her head. "Sorry, I just thought... You've never had a boyfriend so I thought.." He grows silent then attempts to push in further. She clenches her jaw.

"I can't, I'm sorry, I can't."

"What?"

"You have to stop I can't do this. I'm- I don't know what's happening, but it's not- I can't," Emma can't quite find the words to explain it to him. He nods and pulls out giving her body the chance to relax. Beck reaches towards his pants. _I disappointed him_ she thinks to herself before grabbing his arm to stop him. He turns to her surprised then excited as she leans forward and puts him in her mouth.

When he's finished she adjusts her shirt and stands to leave. "You're wrong, you know that?" He cocks his head at her, not understanding. "It didn't hurt and I didn't bleed."

Emma wakes up to a loud knocking on the front door the next morning. She's incredibly hungover but runs down the stairs to answer it before it wakes her mom up. She yanks the door open- pissed that someone would knock so early. "What?"

"Hi, I'm Dr. Chasseur, I work for Fish and Wildlife Services. Are you Emma?" The woman asks and sticks out her hand for a shake. Emma doesn't return it. She had seen her around town but never thought anything of it. Maybe she should have.

"Yeah. Why are you here?" She gets to the chase.

"Well, I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions. Could I come in? It won't take too long."

"No," Emma rolls her eyes and shuts the door. Dr. Chasseur stands facing the door shut. She gets ready to knock again, she'll talk to the girl even if it takes involving Sworn. The door reopens and Emma appears with a jacked. "Mom's asleep, she works nights... Can't wake her up," she steps out and takes a seat on the porch. She grabs a cigarette from her pocket and lights it. "What do you need?"

"Well," Chasseur takes a seat next to her, "I spoke to your friends a few weeks ago, but I thought you might be helpful."

"Friends?"

"Uh yes, Peter Rumancek and Roman Godfrey."

"I'm not friends with them," Emma shakes her head. She puts out the cigarette and stands to go inside. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be of much help."

"You were there the night they dug up Lisa Willoughby, so I know you were friends and I know you have information so sit," Emma turns around and stares at her. "Is Peter a werewolf."

"Look lady, I don't know what drugs you are smoking but you're talking like a nutcase," Emma calls her bluff, "and if you keep talking that way I might have to call Norman Godfrey and see what he has to say." This stuns Chasseur.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, just offering proper mental health advice. Do you have any legitimate questions to ask or did you just come here to ruin my Saturday?"

"What do you know about Roman Godfrey?"

"More than I would like to," she goes in and shuts the door. She's been on a no speaking streak, but this calls for an exception.

_To Peter: When were you going to tell me about Dr. Chasseur?_

She sees he's typing then it goes away. No response.

 

 

 


	8. Yayo

"It's not my fault you can't get hard!" The woman in the passenger seat roughly yanks her shirt over her head. She gets out of the car.

"You're not even that hot!" Roman yells to her.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm hot," she snickers then slams the door. Roman slams his fist into the steering wheel.

She was hot, and it wasn't her fault. Roman knew this but he would never admit it. This isn't the first time it's happened. He blamed it on the stress of finding the vargulf. Every week that went by without a death was a blessing to the town. People were terrified, but not terrified enough to stop their normal routines.

A girl dies? The adults go back to work the next day, the kids go to school, the teens throw another party. As apathetic as Roman could be he still was concerned. Being surrounded by death was like a leach.

They hadn't given up. Every full moon Peter was out there, searching for a sent. As Dr. Chasseur dug deeper the more careful they had to be.

When he wasn't concerned about the vargulf he was with Letha. If he was with her she was safe from the vargulf. If he was with her Peter couldn't be.

He tries to remember when this problem started but he can't pinpoint an exact time. Since his.. issue had developed he'd only gotten remotely close to fucking. It was at the gala and he was already in a bad fucking mood.

Gala's were something someone like Roman should like. He knows that. They're showy, self-absorbed, and most importantly filled with beautiful women. While his mother is over the company, Roman doubts he'll even enjoy them.

Olivia always knows how to ruin anything for her children. She's pissed at him because Emma's not coming. She keeps asking him over, and over, and over again why she's not. Roman has to walk out of the room and return later. Then watching her interactions with Shelley is painful, she'll never let the poor girl live.

The shining light of the whole event is Letha. That light doesn't last long, she throws up all over herself early in the night and has to leave. Roman tries to go with her but Olivia stops him.

He sees her across the dance floor. With her fucking piece of shit husband. He hates his guts and has a mischievous turn of heart for the evening.

She was far below what Roman normally went for, but she was hot in a MILF kinda way. It didn't matter, he saw red and wanted to establish something to her husband. So he takes her upstairs and shares his coke. She goes fucking wild for that shit and he smirks the whole way through.

The woman sucks his dick as soon as the last line is gone. _Too easy_ he thinks. He grabs the razor he had cut the coke with and grips it in his palm until the blood is running through his fingers. Her eyes are closed, she's focused on what she thinks is the best head he's ever received. She's very wrong and he would like to tell her that.

Instead, something better comes to mind. Something better than telling her husband how she got on her knees like a fucking slut the moment he got her alone. He brings the razor to his chest and slices and a giant line into it. It takes a moment but eventually blood drips down to her face. Panic sets in.

Once she's standing face to face with him she stares at his sliced chest and almost gags. "Hey," she doesn't look away from his chest. "Hey!" He grabs her face. "Tell your husband not to fuck with me. Got it?" She nods and runs away as soon as he lets her go. "My father's company is in good hands!"

In retrospect, Roman should have let her finish before doing anything else.

But he didn't, and now he's here sitting alone in his car.

.........

 

"Where's your gypsy friend?" Olivia asks mockingly. She had been on edge since he had been arrested.

"Busy." He bites down hard on his cereal.

"I've heard some things that I don't like hearing." She pours a cup of coffee and sits across from him.

"You don't like most things."

"True, but this involves my son and my son's reputation and therefore me."

"Of course." He laughs. "Always about you."

"What has gotten into you Roman?" She slams the cup down so hard she's surprised it didn't break. "You're hanging out with some gypsy dog, you're in public with whores, you are embarrassing me and yourself. You're going to be in charge of this company, it's time you start acting like it."

"Fuck off." Shelley glances up from her phone, afraid of the interaction taking place.

"You shouldn't speak to your mother that way." She hisses.

"You're barely a mother. You're the reason I am the way I am."

"I gave you anything, and what I didn't give you I let you take." She pokes his chest, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "I let you drive that car, I gave you money-"

"My money!" He shouts over her. "Money left to me!"

"I don't know why you think I won't cut you off like that," she snaps.

"Because you really don't have that authority, _Mother_ ," he smirks. "I've seen the will. It's just a matter of time before you have nothing. I would reconsider your behavior towards me."

Olivia sighs and tells both her children to have a good day.

......

At school, he passes by Emma in the hallway and feels violently angry at her existence and ability to move about life. He doesn't look at her and she doesn't look at him. He wants her to look at him, though, to come to him crying and begging for attention. He knows her too well to know that will never happen.

"What do you think, Roman?" Peter asks, lighting a cigarette next to him. They skipped the third period to chain smoke in the stairwell and discuss more important matters.

"Huh?"

"You weren't listening to anything I said, were you?"

"I'm so sorry honey," Roman pats Peters' knee, "I'll try to be a better husband."

"Oh fuck off," Peter knocks his hand off. "I was saying we need to get Letha to talk to her dad, or go through his stuff, I don't know."

"She won't do it," Roman lights another cigarette. "She wouldn't disobey her dad like that."

"We can only get so far without figuring out what that guy was talking about," he huffs. "We still don't know what's going on with the ouroboros and dragon shit, much less what Chasseur is doing."

"We know exactly what she's doing, she wants to put you in a cage," he takes a long drag and stands. "Let's skip the day, I can't be here any longer."

"I can't leave," Peter mimics his movements. "But have fun."

"Fine, I'll find someone else to go with me."

As they exit the stairwell the bell rings and students pour out from the classrooms and towards the cafeteria. The two boys split at the end of the hallway. Peter heads towards the table where Letha will be waiting for him with lunch. Roman heads down the long hallway towards the gym.

He sees the curly haired girl moving in his direction and waits for her to approach. "Hey! Long time, no see." Celeste smiles at him.

"Hey! What's up?" She asks, looking eager to leave him.

"I'm bored, gonna skip the rest of the day. You in?" Celeste chuckles at him.

"Sorry, Roman, I don't skip." He suspected that would be her answer. On to the next.

 .....

Honestly, Roman is surprised he still gets invited to these things. Granted, it's never by the party throwers themselves, instead, it's always some girl that approaches him in the hallway. A new one every week begging to spend the night with him. He's happy to oblige.

He came to Scotty's alone that night, some girl he hooked up with last year asked if he wanted to come and he said he'd meet her there. She was a bit last year, but Roman was a senior and had made it through most of the school.

Roman feels like he might be outgrowing this scene. The music is loud, the people are loud, the girls are mediocre. Of course, that feeling fades along with his other senses as he downs vodka and goes through a shit ton of his coke. He's feeling pretty warm and even a little friendly after a few hours. He shares a joint with some guy on the football team, and in return he lets Roman snort coke off of his girlfriends' tits.

Across the room he recognizes Ally Gagliardi, one of Emma's friends, sitting next to Tyler. Roman laughs to himself remembering how in the seventh grade the boys would make dick sucking motions and gag at her. A truly unfortunate last time.

At this point, Roman would trade Peter for Tyler. At least Tyler was scared of him, Peter was relentless in chasing after Letha. And worst of all, she really liked him back.

In the heat of the moment, watching the two converse easily, Roman wants to destroy it. He wants to push the boy out of the way and fuck her then and there, right in front of him. Roman knows it won't accomplish anything.

Instead, he finds a pretty blonde girl smoking a cigarette and focuses all of his attention on her. He's never seen the girl before so she's either a freshman or from somewhere else. He slides his way next to her by asking for a light which she politely offers him.

"I'm Roman," he leans onto the railing and smiles to her.

"Claire," she nods to him.

"You from here?"

"No," she takes a drag, "Do you know Erika Briar?" Roman thinks then nods remembering the girl vaguely from his sophomore history class. She was one of the few girls he could never get to pay him attention. "I'm her cousin."

"Where do you live?"

"Technically Maryland, but I'm pretty close to D.C."

"And Erika dragged you to this party where you don't know anyone?" He gives her a sympathetic look.

"Dragged is an exaggeration. We get a pretty long Thanksgiving break at my school so we drove up to visit early. If I have to spend any more time with my parents I'm going to blow my brains." This lights up a bulb in his head. The predator has found a way to attack his prey.

"My dad shot himself," Roman takes a long drag hoping to look somewhat emotional.

"Oh," the girl looks to him, softness in her face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, you kinda get used to expressions like that, y'know," he offers her an obviously forced smile. Roman knows how to get what he wants. He normally just asks, but he's finding this game to be very fun.

"But still..." She struggles for words. "I am sorry."

"I know," Roman reaches out for her and strokes her cheek with his thumb. His hands look massive compared to her small frame. He drops the remainder of his cigarette and puts it out with his foot. "Let's go get a drink."

They're both dumb drunk by the time he's pushing her into the bathroom. He locks the door behind them and pries the girl off his neck. He dumps the remainder of his coke on the counter and cuts it. They both do a couple lines. He slams her onto the counter and she takes off her own underwear. Roman has never been sympathy fucked before but it's looking promising.

Until it isn't. He has to stand there, in front of her, playing with himself trying to get hard. It's really infuriating him. "Do you want me to blow you?" She nips at his neck as she waits for him.

"No," he sighs. "I think I'm just too drunk."

"Here," she hands him her phone. "Give me your number. I'm here for a week."

 ......

"We gotta go meet with Destiny," Peter shakes him.

"What for?" Roman rubs sleep out of his eyes. "And why don't you ever call? Do you enjoy barging in to wake me up? And do you just walk all the way here?"

"She's gonna help us figure out a plan," Peter takes a seat next to him on his bed and ignores his other questions. "Another girl died last night. A county over, but still."

"Give me ten minutes and find me some goddamn Advil," he pulls a pillow over his face. When Peter returns Roman is dressed in an oddly casual outfit. He hands him the pills and a bottle of water. Roman swallows them then chugs the rest of the bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this thank you for letting me write an entire chapter about how Roman's dick don't work.


	9. Somebody Else

"What are you and Roman's plans for your birthday?" Kay asks as she takes her seat across the table.

"Oh," Emma clears her throat, "I don't think we're going to do anything this year."

"What?" Kay asks shocked. "You and Roman always do your birthdays together."

"Um, we're not really on speaking terms right now."

"What's going on?"

"He-" Emma searches for an excuse. "He upset one of my friends and I'm mad at him about it."

"Okay..." Kay doesn't seem convinced. "Well, not to add to the disappointment, but I couldn't get off. Dinner on me next week, though. We'll go somewhere nice!"

"We don't have to, Mom."

"Yes we do!" She smiles at her daughter. "It's not every day my baby girl turns 18."

"Yes, joy," Emma says sarcastically. "I can not buy lottery tickets and porn. Really changing my life."

Kay was right, though, this would be the first birthday she could remember without a Godfrey appearance. The two kids had a tradition of skipping school for Emma's birthday. It all started in elementary school when Olivia refused to bring him to Emma's birthday party, so instead, she would let them stay home from school and have his nanny take them to do something. Roman always wanted to come to the parties though.

Roman's birthday was before school even started, so Olivia always did something extravagant. One year she sent him to Disney World for the week, another time he went to Mount Rushmore. This year she booked out a whole amusement park for him. Emma spent that evening walking around uncomfortably with Shelley while Roman rode whatever rides Letha wanted to go on with her.

Letha continues to smile at her in the hallway to no avail. Emma won't even look at her. She wants nothing to do with the Godfrey family. Even poor Shelley gets thrown in the mix. Emma was never particularly close with the youngest Godfrey, but she had some loving feelings towards the quiet girl who Roman absolutely adored.

She was surprised when Shelley sent her an email a few weeks ago asking if everything was alright. She apologizes on behalf of her brother saying, _You know Roman after all. He's impulsive and speaks before he thinks, and often acts before he speaks. He's unsure of how to proceed with friendships once things begin to deteriorate because he has never had a friend to deteriorate with. I blame his social and empathetical ineptitude on our mother and a lack of literature._

Emma has nothing to say so she doesn't reply. She'd rather tell her own mother before she broke the girls already soft heart.

School is so fucking monotonous to her. She's trying to keep up though. She doesn't miss a day and only comes in late once. She is exhausted constantly usually dips out from her lunch table to grab a nap in the library. It gets her through the second half of the day. At home, all she wants to do is sleep, but can't.

She wakes up and does the same thing again. She has her test coming up that Saturday so most nights are filled with her peaking into her SAT prep book, turning a couple pages, then becoming exhausted.

On her birthday, Ally and Kim take her out for dinner, but the night ends pretty early. She goes home and tries to study again, but can't. Instead, she takes a couple of sleeping pills with a glass a wine and falls asleep. Too asleep.

She awakes that Saturday to her room flooded with sunlight.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_  Emma's mind yells to herself. She was too late.

 

 

_To Peter: Can I come over and talk or are you going to ignore me again?_

His text bubbles appear immediately.

_Peter: Sure._

 

 

"Oh, Emma!" Lynda waves from the kitchen as she walks in. She's rolling out dough on the counter while an older woman chops vegetable next to her. She assumes it's some distant relative of Peters. "Long time, no see. What have you been up to?"

"Just school and life I guess." Lynda nods along.

"I guess it is time for you settled girls to apply for college, huh?"

"Yeah, I've started."

"I'm making a big dinner for tonight so you should stick around."

"I have to help my mom around the house, but thank you for the invite," she offers Lynda as close to a genuine small as she can muster.

"You keep me updated on where you decide to go. You're a smart girl, you'll do great." She stops in front of Emma to pat her shoulder. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Okay," Emma nods. Lynda returns to her dough in the kitchen. Peter looks over at them then back to Emma.

"Let's go talk somewhere quieter." She follows him to his room. "I know you have questions, but I have something important to tell you first," He grabs a bag from his dresser and pats for her to take a seat on the bed next to him. "Me and Roman met with Destiny this morning and we-"

"Peter, I don't want to be involved."

"But it involves you.

"I don't want to talk about it, you know why I came here."

"Look," Peter reaches into his side table and pulls out a jar and a grinder. "Don't worry about her, she won't bother you."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know. I know she's not who she says she is though. She just showed up and started poking around, asking me and Roman questions and just throwing accusations," he grinds the weed then packs it into his bowl. "She thinks I did it."

"She knows your a werewolf."

"She thinks I'm a werewolf. To everyone else in the world, she sounds like a nut job."

"What did she ask you?"

"Emma, please forget it. Don't worry about her. You don't want to be involved in this," there's a slight annoyance in his tone. He hands her the freshly packed bowl. "Ladies first." She takes a hit, coughing slightly.

"I'm having weird dreams," she admits.

"What kind?"

"I keep seeing dead horses," Peter opens his mouth but she motions for him to hold on. "Dead white horses on the road. Dozens of them. And their eyes are being pecked out by vultures. Then sometimes I dream about digging a hole. I thought it was for a coffin the first time, but It's not the right shape, it's circular. And every time I dream it I pick back up where I left off at, just digging deeper. You're in it," she looks to him.

"In the hole?"

"No, the dream. You and Roman are both looking down at me and you never move."

"You should talk to Destiny," Peter suggests.

"It's probably nothing. Just stress, I don't know."

"Or it could be important," he replies quickly. "That's how this whole thing started, me and Roman's dreams."

"I don't want to be a part of it. I can't."

"Just talk to Destiny, do it for me."

"There's nothing mystical or supernatural about dreams. It's just your brain replaying and organizing images and memories you've seen and using electrical impulses it tries to-"

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, you're smart."

"I'm really not," she laughs pathetically. "I slept through the SAT today."

"Shee-it, Em. How'd you manage that?"

"Forgot to set an alarm," she finishes the bowl then puts it down. "I fucked up."

"You can just take it again right?" She shakes her head.

"Applications are due before the next testing date," Emma knows that she should be upset. She should be crying and angry with herself, but she's not. She doesn't care.

"Well, I'm sure things will be fine," she shakes her head again.

"I won't get into UPenn, or anywhere up there really." Peter doesn't have much to say to that. His life was never going to lead him to college. He lays back into his bed. "I'm sorry I just kinda ditched on you. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay, you're life wrapped up around Godfrey and so when that's gone everything shifts with it."

"My life's not wrapped around him," Emma laughs.

"Well- whatever. I'm just saying that..."

"That what?"

"That you don't deserve to have your life changed by him. You are better than that."

"You know, I liked you a lot when I first met you."

"You don't like me now?" He jokes.

"I do, but it's different now. It's a bummer," Peter stays silent while she glances at him, waiting for some reply.

"You don't like me, Emma," he finally speaks.

"That's not true," she shakes her head.

"You like the idea of me, and I like the idea of you," he continues, "and it's a goddamn tragedy." She doesn't know how to reply so instead she moves to her hands a knees and leans down to his place on the bed and kisses him. Softly at first, looking for some form of affection. He provides that for her. She wonders if he's thinking about Letha, but she can live with it if he is. She can imagine he's not. She just wants to prove that she does like him.

"Do you think I'm a good person?" It slips out of her mouth as soon as they part.

"Of course." He furrows his brow. "Why wouldn't I?" She shrugs and kisses him again. "Emma, will you tell me what's going on? I know things are different and I know we're not really friends, but I care," she flinches when he says that but he doesn't seem to notice. That cuts deep.

"I'm fine," she begs him to listen.

"See, the thing is that I don't think you are," he says slowly. "I think something happened between you and Roman and you don't want anyone to know."

"Please stop asking me what happened!" She barks to him. "Everybody keeps fucking asking me what's wrong and there's nothing wrong. People change, people leave, shit doesn't work, pick your poison it's all the same goddamn thing."

He sits silent after that and lays his head back down on the pillow. "I'm gonna go," she stands to gather her things.

"Don't go," Peter sighs, "I'll stop asking, we can talk about other stuff."

"We're not _really_ friends, y'know, you just like the idea of me," she throws his own words back at him. She should have left.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Then maybe you should start saying what you mean."

"What I meant was that things are different from when we first met. You were the first person who was nice to me here, and you will never know how happy it made me when you invited me to the bonfire. Maybe if things had worked out differently we could have tried something, I don't know. In another universe, one without a fucking vargulf running around-" she cuts him off by crawling on the bed to kiss him. He doesn't stop her.

They kiss side-by-side legs intertwined. He's a true romantic.

Emma isn't.

She uses all her strength to push him on to his back and straddles him. He doesn't seem to object, but he is hesitant. Peter would be lying if he said he hadn't found attractive when they first met. Then he met Letha and something clicked in his mind, and the world seemed clearer. He didn't want to run anymore. He wanted to be there, be constant for Letha.

But the gypsy in him couldn't completely fade away for him. He still has aches in his legs to run away from every problem, and right now Emma seems like a pretty good place to run to. So he lays back and doesn't object to her removing his belt, followed by his shirt.

She's rushing to go through the motions before he can become disgusted by her. Before he can realize what she is and how horrific it is that he's not stopping her. How horrific it is that she knows he should. How terribly shameful it is that she doesn't care that she knows what she's doing is wrong.

She only pauses to place quick kisses along his neck and chest. She finally manages to pull his jeans down and awkwardly gets them past his feet. Once his boxers are on the floor she wastes no time and dips quickly to kiss his hip bones.  She lets her free hand scrape down his side to his hips, getting a moan out of him. "Shit," he says in a breathy voice. Emma almost laughs at hearing him say "shit" correctly. Instead she gently strokes him before attempting to place his full length in her mouth.

Swear words quietly fill the room, conscious of the people one room over. It doesn't take too long before he scrunches his face and bites his bottom lip. He lightly pulls at her hair. "I'm gonna cum," he warns her.

This doesn't stop Emma. She continues with a smile forming on her lips as she swallows. He pulls her up by her hair to his face to press a grossly sloppy kiss to her lips. When he starts tugging at her jeans she gently pulls his hands off. "I'm good." She smiles softly at him and straightens her shirt. "I'm gonna head out." He nods abruptly and grabs his boxers from the floor. "Can I bum a cigarette for the road?" Peter nods and hands her one.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"It's new."

"See ya!" He calls out to her as the door shuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Poor Peter never gets enough love. 
> 
> Y'all this chapter did NOT want to be born, so I'm bad if it's not super super great. Next chapter will probably be posted late tomorrow night. It's a small lil filler to get ready for the one I am actually really nervous and excited about!


	10. Hurricane

It's a long walk, but once Emma makes it home she thanks her fucking lucky stars her mom is gone. She goes straight for the bottle of Svedka hidden in her underwear drawer. Swig after swig, she loses count. She turns the TV on to drown out the sound. Emma didn't listen to music much anymore, songs had too many thoughts in them.

She paces her room, takes another swig, paces again. She never looks at her bed. She feels in the pit of her stomach some form of emptiness. Nausea fills her body and she runs to her bathroom to vomit. It's guilt but she won't admit it. She takes another swig of the blue raspberry vodka to wash the taste out.

Emma sits there with her head pressed to the toilet seat for god knows how long. It's not until she hears a knock on the door she looks up. She drags herself down the stairs and to the door. She takes a breath worrying that it might be Dr. Chasseur on the other side.

When she opens the door she wishes that it was.

"Emma, dear," Olivia says. Emma is surprised to see here there. She hadn't been to her house since Roman was in elementary school. "How are you?"

"I'm well?" She answers, weary of whatever this plan was.

"Look, I won't take too much of your time." Emma nods and stands aside so Olivia can enter. Her arms have the dress bag she had bought Emma. "When I found out you weren't coming to the gala I was so disappointed that you wouldn't have the opportunity to wear this dress," Olivia places it down flat on the couch. "I thought I'd bring it by, maybe you could wear it to prom? I know it's far away, but it's a shame. You looked beautiful."

"Thank you," Emma tells her honestly. "I can't take it though, you should return it."

"Oh, nonsense. I wouldn't be caught dead returning something. Besides- it was tailored for you."

"Well.. thank you."

"Anything for you, dear," Olivia approaches the door again. Emma follows, ready to see her leave. "Anything," she pats Emma's cheek. "Shelley said she's worried about you."

"I don't know why," Emma offers a soft smile.

"She said she's heard some nasty rumors about you. I'm sure they're nothing, you know Shelley can be, she loves to exaggerate."

"Sometimes people just say things to be mean," she shrugs.

"The world can be cruel, you remember that," Olivia moves her hand from her cheek and to the girl's hair. The plays with a strand. She stands so uncomfortably close to Emma's face that she's sure she can smell the blueberry vodka. "Some people only think about themselves and what is best for them, unafraid to step on others to get what they want." Olivia pauses to ponder what to say next. "Don't take things personally. Your feelings matter very little to them."

Olivia makes her way to the door and says goodbye. She gives her one last smile the locks the door. She slams her body down on the couch, exhausted from the small but confusing social interaction. She misses Peter. She misses the idea of him.

Olivia had been syrupy sweet in her tone, but Emma couldn't figure out the message. She always loved giving long monologues and they never really made sense. Never had a context.

So, instead of thinking about it she continues to day drink until she stumbles down the road to Travis Ryans house where they're having a small get together. It's nothing like what she usually experiences at Scotty's. It's just a group of ten or maybe fifteen smoking from a bong and having cheap beer.

Emma didn't really know the people there that well, but she and Travis had been childhood friends having lived in the same neighborhood. She stays close to him throughout the night and when everyone heads home she stays. They hang out in the bonus room above the garage and for the second time that day she goes down on a guy with a girlfriend.

She stumbles home that night undisturbed by the dead girls that haunt the town. She sits on her back porch with an unlit cigarette in her hand. She rolls it back and forth between her thumb and pointer finger. It's unbearably cold out and she eventually succumbs to the desire to climb under a pile of thick blankets.

How long had she felt like this? She thinks about it and it must have been for a while. Before everything happened for sure, but not as bad.

What if this is all there is. What if this is how I've always felt. She can't remember anymore. Maybe that meant something. Maybe there was always some form of loneliness burrowed in her that she could ignore but now it was an opening that festered.

Emma's mom takes her to dinner that Tuesday for a late birthday dinner and they make small talk. She doesn't talk about missing the SAT or how school is going or where she goes when Kay is at work.

Going out on school nights is rare, but as winter break approaches and another body is found, the almost adult population of Hemlock Grove begins gathering in smaller ratios. She goes to another one at Travis' house. His girlfriend is there that time so she spends her time split between watching the couple interact and talking to Elliot from her French class.

Across town, Peter glances up to his cousin. She sits on the other side of the table flipping tarot cards. "You fucked up today," Destiny says without looking up.

"How do you-"

"I know things, cousin," she sighs. "As thrilled as I am about her not being a Godfrey, you're putting her in danger."

"She doesn't want to know, Des," Peter tries to explain. "She doesn't want to be involved."

"She doesn't really have a choice," Destiny flips a card. "But I guess if she died that would take care of a few of your self-inflicted problems."

 

 

Emma walks home that night, sobered up pretty well. Even though she's completely certain that she doesn't care about fucking up her entire future, waves of disappointment pulsate through her on occasion. Right now, she feels it like an electrifying force. When she is finally able to sleep, she sleeps those doubts away.

Letha still smiles at her in the hallway, Shelley sends her a nod, Kim and Ally share glances between one another whenever she speaks to them, Peter hasn't looked at her, and the way Roman looks at her when she enters a classroom scares her. And the dreams never stop.

 


	11. Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:
> 
> Not a fucking soul:
> 
> Me: ok, but what if i made it all smut????
> 
> Warning: For real, this chapter is legit mostly smut so you're welcome??? I had to get drunk to write this. Enjoy

"She's such a fucking slut." Roman continued to sip his beer in the corner, but this comment grabbed his attention. He could tell the girl was infuriated and, maybe, if he was lucky this 'slut' would make an appearance and someone would swing.

"Don't even think about him, Lex." Her friend comforters her. "If that's the kind of girl he likes then he's not good enough for you."

"Hi." A girl in a low cut shirt slides next to Roman. "What are you doing?"

"Not interested," he says, not even taking the time to look at her. She makes a disgusted noise and walks around him. He's invested in this conversation.

"I should beat her ass!" The first girl, Lex, says, hand gripping her cup so tight it makes a loud crinkling noise.

"She's not worth it." Another girl tries to calm her down. Roman chuckles into his cup. "She's pathetic."

"No wonder she's never had a boyfriend," another one that Roman actually recognizes mumbles.

' _This is taking too long,'_  Roman thinks to himself. There clearly would be no cat fight tonight, just crying. He figures now might be a good time to swoop in an save the girl, Lex, from any more tears. He could turn her night around. As he closes the space in between them the girls burst out in drunken tears. "Come on, let's go home," one of her friends pulls her away.

"Fucking whore!" The girl yells, looking back over her shoulder into the crowded living room.

"Ladies," Roman enters himself into the conversation of the remaining girls, they all smile at him. "Is everything okay with your friend?"

"She'll be fine." One of them basically purrs to him. "Some girl just blew her kind of boyfriend."

"Kind of?" He smiles at her.

"You know how boys are." She pauses. "And you know how some girls can be."

"Do I?" She giggles at him and nods. "Who's the girl?"

"I don't know her name," she bites her lip. "You trying to find her for something? I'm sure she'll go down on you if you ask." Roman lets out a loud laugh, he had definitely approached the right girl in the group.

"Can I get you a drink?" She shakes the blue drink she has in her hand in his face. "What's your name?"

"Gia," she smirks. "And you're the oh so famous Roman, huh?" He chuckles and nods. It's always a bit of an ego boost when people recognize him.

"Gia, I haven't seen you before, where are you from?"

"Franklin High, a county over."

"Well Gia, I don't have anything smooth to say right now, and I'm a little fucked up, to be honest." He leans into her. "So how about we go talk somewhere quieter."

"I would love that." He wraps his arm around her waist, attempting to pull her through the crowded house. He feels her lean on his shoulder, standing on her tippy toes to reach his ear. "That's her, by the way. Don't leave me for her." He laughs.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Roman looks up to see who she's nodding to, who this mystery girl is. He sees the back of her head across the room near the kitchen table. She chugging tequila straight from the bottle.

"The girl in the blue skirt," Gia says. Roman looks at the girl in the kitchen drinking straight from a tequila bottle. She puts the bottle down and holds her fists in the air triumphantly. A group of boys high five her in congratulations. One of them stands to hug her and lifts her up a bit. He kisses her on the way back down. She opens up her mouth and he places a pill in her mouth like candy. "Looks like it's round two." Gia laughs and keeps pulling him forward.

Roman looks back of his shoulder, hoping to find that his eyes wrong, but they're not. When the girl finally turns, her full face finally in his eye-line, he wants to vomit. Waves of shock and shame and anger slide over him at the sight of Emily Parker's face.

"You want one?" She asks putting a pill in her mouth and chasing it with her drink. He looks back at Emma, who seems to be having a good time, and takes one from her hand.

Upstairs, in what he assumes is a guest bedroom, he sits on the edge of the bed. The girl is taking too long to get anywhere. He swears they've been making out for hours but he looks at the clock and it's only been 20 minutes. Finally, Gia kneels on the floor in front of him, undoing his pants. He's not even remotely hard. The poor girl looks embarrassed and keeps trying. "I'm sorry," she apologizes.

Roman wants to say it's okay, that it's not her fault, but honestly, he doesn't give enough of a fuck. He's sick of whatever issue his body is going through. He stands and leaves the room, girl still on the floor. ' _She knew who I am, she should know better'_ he thinks.

In the living room, he stops to take in how much crazier things have gotten. Another girl approaches him and he walks away from her. He's a man on a mission. He makes his way through the crowd to the kitchen where there's still a group of guys lingering. "The girl in the blue skirt, where is she?"

"Upstairs bathroom."

In the bathroom Emma sits on the counter, leaning back into the mirror. Some guy, she doesn't know if she knows him, is standing between. She's pretty sure he's jerking off. It doesn't help that at this point in the party she's so drunk she could fall asleep with no effort but the molly is begging her to come back up. The guy gropes at her breast with his free hand.

There's a loud knock on the door then a creak as it opens. Her head feels too heavy to lift, but she manages to slide it to see through squinted eyes Roman standing in the doorway. "You should leave," he says to the guy. The guy wastes no time zipping his pants and darting out.

"You could be a fucking porn star, you know that?" He smirks and takes a sip from his solo cup. She glares at him and bends over to grab her purse. "Let me give you a ride." She ignores him, grabbing her belongings. She tries to push past him but he grabs her wrists.

"Don't touch me, Roman." She yanks her wrists from his grasps. "Don't fucking touch me." She repeats. Outside the door, the two of them are gathering quite a crowd. Their friendship had been the hot gossip for a while but even more so when they stopped speaking.

Roman notices the small group looking at them. He comes into the bathroom, shuts the door, and leans against it, blocking her only way out. "Let me give you a ride home. You can't walk home like this. How much have you had to drink? I know you're rolling... That's a baaaad mix." She snickers at him, finding it funny that he's attempting to help her, to keep her safe.

"You can't drive either!" She shoots back.

"I have my ways." Emma thinks for a moment and nods. She's in no state to walk the 40-minute walk home. What more could he do that he hasn't already done? "Want some?" He asks holding the vial of white powder to her. She nods.

"Wow," Roman says in amazement as he puts a little bit on the pack of his hand for her and holds it out. "Emily Parker doing coke."

"Take me home." She says quietly, rubbing her nose.

"Let's talk."

"I don't want to talk I want to go home." She says trying to stay tough but her voice cracks. "Please take me home."

"Em, you fucked Peter, didn't you?" She rolls her eyes but doesn't move. "Em?" She only nods. "While you know how Letha feels about him?" She nods again, hand on her hip and eyes on the doorknob. "Are you doing this to upset me?"

"Upset you?" She laughs, thrown back by the accusation.

"Whatever I did," her face shows the shock that he won't talk about it, "that upset you, doesn't mean that I enjoy watching you fuck a bunch of guys."

"I told you before, I'm not Letha, you can't tell me what to do," she stands up straight and puts her face close as to his as possible. "So get the fuck out of my way."

"No," he smirks. "I'm not done talking."

"Roman, let me out." She feels a surge of energy push through her as she tries to move his giant body out of the way. She huffs and gives up. "What else do you have to say? What's so fucking important?"

"I just wanna know if the face you make when I make you cum is still the same," he says nonchalantly.

"Then do it," the words roll out on their own and are loaded with attitude. The molly had been begging her to call Peter, finish what she started with him. He wouldn't go for it- not again. She's seen him around school with his arm wrapped around Letha. He loves her. So she throws caution to the wind. This was her choice, she didn't have to if she didn't want to, but she wants to.

 _My choice. My choice._ She keeps repeating it her head. The sense of autonomy she has when she kisses him first overruns her mind. Emma hasn't felt this in control of her body in a long time. He gets control long enough to slam her against the bathroom counter.

"God, you're fucking tiny," He rubs his hands over her ribs, concern laced in his voice. She quickly grabs them and moves them to her ass. He moans and seems to have forgotten his comment. He helps her onto the counter where her skirt slides above her thighs.

He rubs her over her panties. She lets out a breathy whine at the contact. She hadn't been able to really look at herself since everything happened and definitely not touch herself. She can feel his smugness in his kiss. "So wet for me already," he leans in to nibble on her ear, "I know that asshole couldn't have made you this wet."

Roman likes to be in control. He takes pride in his ability to get women off, typically through relatively little effort. Emma has no intentions of letting that be the case.

She slides off the counter in the small space he'd left open in front of the of him. She stands up taller to kiss him and guide him to the floor. She straddles him and grinds across him slowly. He moans and she smirks. "You like doing that to me, don't you?"He asks. She nods then kisses his jaw and attempts to pull his pants and boxers out of the way. Seeing her struggle, helps her move them down.

There's a 30 second break when he puts on a condom that she should have used to think about what's happening. But she didn't.

He lets out a whiney moan watching her push her underwear to the side and sinking down onto him. She kisses his jaw and smiles at the noises she's making."I meant it, y'know?"

"What?" She pulls her mouth off of him but continues her pace.

"You could be a fucking porn star." He leans his head back onto the door, breathing slowly.

"That's the strangest compliment I've ever heard."

"The fancy porn, of course, the kind you have to pay for- hotel porn." She laughs. She had missed his obscure and lewd sense of humor.

His hands move up her shirt to cup her tits, surprised to find she's not wearing a bra. He pinches at her nipples, causing her to let out a deep moan and jerk her hips. His hands move back down, thumbs caressing over her ribs again, concern laced in his eyes.

She quickly grabs them and holds his wrists to his sides. He's way stronger than so it's not really doing anything, but the intention is there. The cramp in her right leg is killing her but his breathy moans give her the motivation to keep going. She leans into him for a deep kiss, biting his lip as she pulls away.

He finishes fast. So fast that he would be embarrassed if it was with anyone else.

"Fuck.. Em, I'm gonna cum." He pants out, she moves rocks at that. She lets go of his wrist to pull his hair so hard the back of his head slams into the door. He grabs her shoulders so tight that his fingernails draw blood. He quickly pulls her closer to lick the blood bubbling out. She continues to pull his hair until she feels him shake below her and his mouth opens but no sound comes out. He quickly grabs her hips slowing her down. "Shee-it," he lets out under his breath. His dry streak has been eliminated.

She follows him out of the bathroom where people stare as they make their way down the stairs. He sees Gia from the corner of his eye looking disgusted. He knows another round of "She's a fucking slut" is coming and would rather keep Emma from seeing that.

They sit in his car taking another hit of coke before he drives her home. "You can come over if you want," he offers. She almost says yes but decides it's best to go home so her mom doesn't find out she was out.

Emma unrolls the window on her side of the car and holds her hand out. The cold wind makes her fingers numb matching the feeling of her face. She smiles into the cold feeling better than she has in months, possibly ever. She's still riding from the high of the drugs, but mainly it's the feeling of control. This must be euphoria. Blinding happiness.

_Let's cause a little trouble_   
_Oh, you make me feel so weak_

She can feel Roman's eyes glancing at her. She can't figure out why until she puts her hand on her face and feels the wetness. He pulls off to a side road and turns the car off. "What's wrong?"

"I can feel everything," she stays entranced by the stars. She means it. She can feel every crease in the car seat, hear the noise of every tree shaking in the wind, even the smallest details are illuminated.

"You wanna take a walk?" He asks. "I think there's a clearing up the hill."

"Is it safe?"

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

And that's how they end up laying on the towel from that one day he had gym class. It's small so they have to pretty much face each other, but the closeness helps some with the late autumn chill. Emma looks over at his face and realizes this is the first time she's seen him cry. "What's up?"

"You're right," he continues to look up at the stars, voice flat and almost sad, "I can feel everything."

"Good or bad?"

"Both," he shrugs. "Just everything. What if I'm never this happy again?"

"You won't be," Emma knows it's true. This moment, this night, it's fleeting. Somewhere deep down she knows she'll wake up tomorrow with her serotonin out of balance. She knows she'll fall farther down than she started. She wants to hate Roman, to kill him, or to walk into the woods to let the vargulf or some other predator kill her- he'd have to live knowing it was his fault.

But right now she doesn't want to die. She wants to continue feeling, feeling the wind brushing the dead leaves against her boots, the cold dirt through the towel, the endless possibilities that the depthless stars above her held. But most importantly- she wants to feel Roman as close to her as possible. She wants to feel like she did before. Better than she did before.

Emma rolls in closer and wraps her arms around him. He takes this as a sign and kisses her. It's tender and slow and she notices that he tastes like bourbon.

She doesn't know how to explain or rationalize to her self what's happening. Roman's laying on top of her just slowly kissing and holding her. Then he'll take a break from kissing just to stare at her, then up to the sky. She tries on multiple occasions to undo his belt but he stops her and pulls her in close. Emma can't imagine a scenario in which he's ever acted like this before. Roman didn't touch people.

It takes him long enough, but he's finally running his hands up her skirt. He hooks his fingers around her underwear. He stops and frowns. She sighs and opens her eyes to look at him. "I don't have another condom."

"Really?" She cocks her head.

"Normally one is sufficient for a night," he shrugs helplessly.

"Just pull out."

"Are you sure?" He asks with so much sincerity that it genuinely makes her head spin. _Must be the drugs._

"Roman, if you don't fuck me now I'll find someone else who will." She doesn't mean it of course, but it gets the job done. He grabs her by her hips and quickly drags her closer to him. She leans up on her elbows to see him unbuttoning his pants and pushing them just past his thighs. He pulls down her underwear and throws them aside. With little to no hesitation, he pushes into her. For a few moments he's back to the Roman she knows, thrusting into her so hard she's sure she'll have dark purple bruises on her shoulder blades and hips when he's done.

Then it's over. He's sweet and slow. It's all very strange to her. He leans down again, small light kisses, swollen lips. He's crying, she thinks she might be crying too but can't tell. He wipes a tear off her face, maybe hers. She loves him, she really does, she wants to think this is all life will ever be. Nothing happened before and nothing will happen after. This is it.

She's never looked at Roman for this long before. Not maintained eye contact anyway. He's moving at such an agonizingly slow pace that both are equally surprised when he cums. "Em..." The shock wipes over his face."I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she can't stop herself from giggling.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know, that's what makes it funny," tears are still rolling down her cheeks. "Not such a sex god are you?" She expects him to joke back but instead, he stays looking down at her, caressing her face. He uses his thumb gently to wipe tears away only replaced by his own. He pulls out of her and buttons his pants back up.

"I've never done X before," he admits shyly.

"Really?" He nods. She's surprised, having assumed Roman had tried most everything.

"Did you finish?" She shakes her head. "Let me-"

"I'm cold," she looks up at him, "let's go." He nods and helps her up and hands her underwear to her. She tries to play off the fact that there is cum dripping from her but Roman notices. He grabs the towel and kneels below her to clean up his mess.

"I'm sorry," he whispers with the rarest of Roman Godfrey emotions- embarrassment.

"It's okay," she chuckles again.

"Should we just leave it here?" He motions to the towel.

"No, there's too much DNA on it." He nods in agreement.

They make it back to the car, breath visible in the air the whole way. Roman wraps his jacket around her when they get in. Before either can buckle up he grabs her waist and pulls her towards him, craving to be touched. Emma says fuck it to herself and stays next to him unbuckled. If they die they die.

He pulls the car to the side of the street in front of her house. He's barely able to put the parking brake on before she's pouncing on him. She didn't quite mean it to be sexual- or maybe she did- it's all the same right now. He pushes her down onto the car bench, nipping at her neck. It's not ideal, but it'll work.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he looks down over her. He bites down on her collar bone, surely leaving a mark, and forcing a moan from her mouth. "Can I take a picture?"

"Yeah," she replies with no hesitancy.

"Take your top off."

"Okay." My choice. She pulls it over her head and lays back down. The flash goes off a couple of times and she can't even imagine what she looks like, but she knows it's not good. The flash stops for a moment and in the darkness, she can make out his figure leaning forward to kiss the valley in her chest. "Goddamn," Roman whispers. He sits back up, leaving one hand on her right breast, and takes another picture.

"Hey, hey," she sits up and jokingly pushes the phone away, "I said _a_ picture, not several."

"But I need them to hang above my bed," he whines, the phone still up. She lets out a 'hmph' as he kisses her then leans back down to the bench. She can't keep count with how many times the flash goes off or how long it lasts. He continues to play with one of her nipples with his free hand. He only stops to press two of his fingers to her lips begging for an entrance. She happily obliges.

He only gets two or three photos before she hears him release a deep breath.

He slams the phone on the dash. Emma recognizes the now familiar feeling of his cold, large hands on her thighs. In one swift motion, she's completely bare with the exception of her skirt. His hand crawls up her thigh. Her eyes are closed, but she can feel the smirk radiating off of him when she lets out a short gasp at the contact.

She squints her eyes open and sees Roman repositioning himself to bend down towards her. She sits up, backing away from him when she can feel his hot break on her thigh. "No," she tells him sternly. "No."

"Can I at least do this?" He asks, pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit. She lets out a long breath.

"Yeah," she chuckles, trying to prevent a moan. "I guess so."

"That's what I thought," he says with a prideful tone. She lays back down and puts her arm over her heating face. He continues to tease her, smiling at every gasp and 'oh.' He hears her say something, but even in the silence, it's too quiet. "What was that, sweetheart?"

"Please," she mumbles again, feeling embarrassed at her desperation.

"Let me see you," he uses his free hand to move her arm from her face. "Thank you," he says then slips a finger into her. She's uncomfortable at the amount of attention being placed on her pleasure, but she bites it back with her moans and gasps.

Roman normally would take this time to whisper nasty things in her ear, but he feels soft and small watching her. Unlike most things in his mind, this isn't about him. Emma is too distracted to realize how gentle the look on his face is. He finally finds the right rhythm. Instinctively her legs try to open farther only to be blocked by the dashboard. Her lower back rises off of the seat, putting all the weight on her tender shoulder blades.

The flash goes off. "Yep, still the same."

"Huh?" She pants.

"Your cum face is still the same." He flips the phone around for her to see.

"Fuck you," she tries but fails, to not laugh.

_Would you lie for me?_   
_Cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me?_   
_Would you pin me to a wall?_   
_Would you beg or would you crawl?_   
_Stick a needle in your hungry eyes for me?_

The regret and disgust sinks in when she gets into her bedroom and sees her still unmade bed. The comforter is pulled up high enough to cover the dried blood. She can't face it, can't strip it and wash it. She feels claustrophobic suddenly. She wants to go outside and run through the neighborhood but knows that's a death wish. She couldn't do that to her mom.

Emma takes a seat at her desk looking out the window in front of her. She's struggling to breathe and before she knows it she's crying again and gasping to get air. The foamy brown vomit comes up all at once on her, sliding down from her mouth an on to her shirt. The feeling of it hitting her skin just makes her more upset.

She reaches for the drawer on her right and digs until she finds the hidden case where she keeps her collection of sleeping pills that weren't prescribed to her. She takes on quickly and downs a bottle of water. She manages to change out of her stained shirt and skirt, putting them in the wash.

She turns on her TV and leaves it at whatever channel it had been on. The pills kicking in and she's thankful. She makes her way to the pallet of blanket and sheets she had made on her floor in front of her bed. She can't see the TV from there, but the noise is comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I try to have the rough draft for the next chapter done before I publish and I haven't had much free time/inspo.
> 
> As always pls pls pls let me know if you have any constructive things to tell me! or even just ideas/scenarios. I have the over all story arch planned but I'm always down to right more character driven blurbs.


	12. Should Have Known Better

**TW: Allusions of suicide**

 

Emma wakes up the next day with a pounding headache and a dull pain in her stomach. She can't move from her spot on the floor even though her throat burns for water. She succumbs to the feeling of helplessness and drifts in and out on conciseness for most of the day.

When she finally stays awake long enough to sit up she wishes she was asleep again.

Once Emma drags herself up from her floor and to her bathroom, she lays back down on the cold tile. The feeling of her forehead placed flat down on it elicits a deep sigh of relief. She's disgusting and can feel the grime and dirt built up under her fingernails. Suddenly a bitter taste rises in her mouth and she turns her head to the side just in time to throw up onto the floor.

She tries to push herself up onto her elbows only to give up and lay back down in her own vomit. Somehow the bathroom has never been so hot, yet cold, at the same time. She falls back asleep there for some time, and when she finally awakens the sun is starting to dip down.

She's starting to feel a bit better than before, but the puke clinging her body isn't doing her any favors. After several inner-motivation speeches, she manages her way to the sink to wash it off. She has to sit down as soon as she's done and take a few breaths.

Emma eyes the shower next to her before settling on a bath. The moment the steam hits her face she gags and flips the tap to cold. She settles into the lukewarm tub and lays her head against the cold porcelain. This must be what people mean when they say they're never drinking again. They never mean it, though. She doesn't mean it either.

She stays in the bath until the temperature has dipped well below room temperature and seems to be absorbing the chill from outside. Her skin is uncomfortably pruned. She wraps herself in an old scratchy towel and returns to her spot on the floor that she had crawled out of. She burrows herself down into the warm quilt.

The sun starts to go down and she can't fall back asleep, bothered by the constant pounding vibrations in her head. She doesn't want to think about it- about how fucking stupid she was. "Last night was a mistake" has never been more of an understatement.

Emma can't remember what was going through Last Night Emma's head when she made these choices. She must have slipped into some strange alternate universe where when mistakes are made they multiply like the Hydra.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Emma knew exactly what would happen after last night, she understood chemistry. The molly had drained her already low amount of serotonin and now it would be a while before they were replenished. In the back of her mind, she worries that maybe they won't come back. That maybe she's wasted all her serotonin on one night and now will be not only ashamed but also serotonin-less.

Ashamed is also an understatement, everything is an understatement. There are no words known that could equate to the emotions she was shouting in her head. Her inner monologue is just screaming into the void.

When she finally thinks her brain has relaxed and might let her sleep something rocks through her. It hits her again how unbelievably dumb she had been. Her chest catches and small "hmphs" come from her throat all on their own. Then she gives in.

She wants to cry so she does.

Tomorrow, she'll go back to school relive everything again. People knew what happened, of course, they did. It's a small town and half of it was at Scotty's last night. How do explain that people? She doesn't want to think about it much less explain it to her friends. And she'll be goddamn shocked if Roman hasn't already told someone. He always does.

But this is her. She thinks there's no way he could do that to her. But, then again, nothing seemed to matter much anymore. Reflecting on his past and potential behavior, Emma can't believe she was friends with someone like him. She now sees why most of her friends didn't understand why she was friends with him.

These behaviors- they're not new. _This is how he's always behaved and always will_ , she tells herself. How could she have just looked past it? Roman Godfrey had been hurtful to so many people and she has ignored it because _she_ was _different_. And now she's seething at the thought.

But as fast as the anger came it flees.

It's her fault. She had known who he was and had ignored it. She should've known better. What kind of insensitive person would ignore all of those things? She's stupid, so, so, fucking stupid. There's no amount of drugs or alcohol that could or should make a person forget everything he had done to her- everything she had seen him do to others.

She didn't see it because she didn't want to. She didn't care.

Emma doesn't know what's hurting the most, but whatever it is, it sends a shiver down her spine. It's dark out now and she isn't sure how long it's been that way. Time doesn't make much sense to her now. Are the days too long or too short? She can't tell. There's so much silence.

She'd take the night time silence over what she imagines is coming for her this week. Maybe everyone will just let it go. She knows Ally will ask, but she would do so privately. It would be a good opportunity to tell someone the whole truth, but she's in too deep. She's embarrassed to even admit it to herself, but she wishes someone knew. That, someone, figured it out. She doesn't want to be the one to tell them.

Buried deep under blankets, Emma rolls over onto her back. She rubs her eyes and wishes they would stay closed. She knows what she's feeling isn't okay, but it's like freezing to death. If you succumb to it long enough you start to feel warm. She starts to consider taking that walk through the woods.

There's no guarantee anything would happen. It seemed like the attacks were sporadic and not frequent enough to put her at a favorable chance. It would be a big deal if something happened to her, though. People would be sad, maybe Roman would feel bad. But probably not. Every single thought gets washed out by her mother. She couldn't hurt her like that.

The thoughts of barren trees at night and pills lull her to sleep.

Sometime later in the evening, Emma shoots up from her place on the floor, dripping sweat, heart pounding. The same three dreams. It's always one of them or no dream at all. The horses, the hole, and the room.

The room is her worst. She's in a padded room with a few windows that reveal the night sky. There's one door, but somehow Emma knows it's locked. She sits on one side of the room, and directly across from her sits Roman.

Nothing happens. He doesn't touch her, doesn't move, but can feel so much in the atmosphere. Irate, pain, disgust. Silent diatribes radiating loudly from both of them. She wakes up at the same point in the dream every time. Roman will stand a walk towards her. He kneels in front of her and lifts her chin. Then she wakes up.

She doesn't know why it terrifies her so much. She just knows that something is very wrong. Even after finally calming down sleep won't come.

_____________ 

"Sup?" Peter says and he opens the car door and slides in. Roman slowly moves his head towards him and nods. His sunglasses and tinted a seemingly impossibly dark shade of black. "You good?"

"Hungover," Roman groans, voice husky and rough. "Got a pit stop first."

"Oh," Peter reaches down to the floorboard, "did you fuck someone where I'm sitting?"

"Huh?" Roman turns to see Peter holding onto a thong by the tips of his fingers. "I would put those back unless you want to touch my semen." In one quick flash and a sound of disgust, they are back in the floor.

"Gross!" Peter whispers to himself. He looks up as the barren trees slowly transition into the outskirts of the city center. "Where are we going?"

"Letha's."

"Letha's?" Peter asks a bit louder, shocked that Roman is taking him anywhere near her.

"Shhh, hangover," Roman reminds him. "She has the file."

They arrive at the other side, the normal side, of Godfrey family's house and knock on the door. "It's open," they hear Letha's muffled voice through the door. Roman, still wearing his sunglasses, opens it and walks in first. Peter follows in slowly and stands behind him.

"It shouldn't be," he tells her sternly.

"It's broad daylight!"

"It's dangerous," he corrects her.

"Sorry, Dad." She rolls her eyes.

"Where's the stuff?" He crosses his arms.

"Roman," Letha smiles to him sweetly, "will you go upstairs and get it?"

"Why can't you?"

"I'm pregnant and my ankles hurt," she explains in an exaggerated voice. "Please?" Roman huffs and heads upstairs. She knew he could never say no to her, despite his bratty demeanor. Letha quickly waves Peter over to her place on the couch. Behind the pillow next to her in a small white envelope. "I found this in my dad's office. Don't tell Roman," she whispers and glances at the stairs to make sure Roman isn't coming.

"What is it?" Peter takes it from her.

"It's my uncle's suicide note." Peter looks at her in disbelief and confusion, but before he can ask any more questions they can hear Roman coming downstairs. He puts the envelope inside his jacket. "We'll talk tomorrow," she mouths to Peter.

"Well, we've got to be on our way," Roman waves the file. "Got some business to attend to."

"Don't do anything stupid," Letha warns the boys.

"I never do." She rolls her eyes at the lie.

"Come along, Pete," Roman waves him towards the door. Peter shoots her a look before following. Whatever is in this note she sure thinks it's important.

_____________ 

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Destiny asks, waving the file carelessly in the air. She's sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"I don't know, voodoo shit?" Roman suggests.

"I don't do voodoo shit," she gives him a look. "I'm not some all-knowing, powerful, source of information. I can do some shit, but this? This is nothing."

"So you're telling me we begged Letha for nothing?" Peter sits on the couch and puts his face in his hands.

"I mean, I can read it?"

"If only we could do that ourselves," Roman mumbles sarcastically and takes a seat next to Peter. "This guy is having some sort of mental fuck up over this."

"I think that's a pretty normal reaction," Destiny says, amazed at Roman's ignorance. "The guy saw a vargulf kill a girl. That shit's pretty spooky to the normal human population."

"It's one thing to be fucked up," Peter starts, "but this guy is running around talking about a dragon and stuff."

"I'm sorry guys, I think this might just be a dead-end," she shrugs.

"So that's it?" Roman stands abruptly. "There's nothing else to do?"

"I didn't say that," Destiny sighs, growing impatient with the boy. Roman Godfrey really knew how to push her buttons, but that was in his nature.

"Then what?" Peter asks. "What do we do?"

"Keep fucking looking, what do you think?" She puts her hands up in defeat. "Learn how to hunt a predator? I told you to run when you had the chance."

"You know I can't," Peter looks at her sadly.

"It's not too late to give up," Destiny reminds the boys. "This doesn't have to be your fight."

"Everyone thinks I'm killing them! That I'm doing this!"

"But you're not, and there's not even a drop of proof that you are. You think these fuckers would be able to arrest you? What's their claim? They can't tell a court they believe in werewolves!"

"People are dying, Des!"

"Peter's right," Roman chimes in. "People are dying, we can't just not do anything about it." Destiny has to bite back a snarl. She really fucking hates this kid. He' a hypocrite. She knows he doesn't know it yet, but one day people will die at his hand. He'll be the monster.

 _____________ 

Roman drives them a few towns over where no one will see them. The last thing they need is to be caught. He parks his car in some dingy gravel lot in front of a brick building. The boys sigh and unbuckle their seatbelts. "You sure we should do this?" Peter asks. Roman nods in response and steps out the car.

A bell above the door rings when Roman pushes it open. The boys are met with the dusty, dingy smell of old wood paneling. There are only a few men in the room but they all stop to stare at them. "Can I help you, boys?" A man behind the counter asks suspiciously.

"We want to learn about hunting," Roman says to the burly man. He walks to the counter and puts an arm on it.

"This isn't some Brokeback Mountain shit, right?" The man tries to joke but gets no response. "Well, what kind of hunting? It might not be in season yet."

"We want to know about hunting a predator, like a coyote," Roman explains. "It's for a school project."

"Well," the man scratches his beard. "You're not actually hunting an animal, right?" The boys shake their heads no. "Good, because this is dangerous stuff," he looks the seemingly weak-looking boys over once more. There's no way these two boys would go hunting. "I don't hunt coyotes, I like deer... But I'd say first you'd wanna collect whatever information you could. What does it eat? When does it mate? How does it hunt? Basic knowledge like that."

"Then what?" Peter asks quietly.

"Then you set a trap. You've got three options: you can get 'em with hunger, territory, or their libido. It's best to hunt in pairs, cover more ground that way. Some people like to train hounds, never done it myself. I would use a fox call, though."

"Fox call?" Roman asks.

"Yeah, don't let the name full you, it'll get a dogs attention."

 _____________ 

"How the fuck was that helpful," Peter slams his fist onto the dash as Roman shuts his own door.

"Hey!" Roman grabs his arms. "It's vintage," He rubs the dash and Peter mumbles out an apology. "It was something, I guess. He told us how to lure it in."

"A coyote, Roman," Peter gives him a crazed look. "Not a vargulf, a goddamn coyote."

"It's still useful."

"I told you, that thing doesn't care about eating, or fucking, and it's not territorial. It's angry There's nothing to do."

"What about the fox call?" Roman says slowly.

"What about it?"

"Well," he cocks his head to the side and lets out a small grin, "we have our own living, breathing dog call."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it!! As always comments are welcomed and appreciated! I would love opinions on the pacing of the story.
> 
> Would anyone want a song list of like what the chapter titles are and stuff/what I listen to when I'm getting in the writing zone? I don't want to include it unless y'all want it.


	13. Thread

It's finals week, finally. That means half days for the whole school, and despite the stress that comes with finals, it's worth it. Emma had been trying to study. This was her last chance to pull her grades up. If she didn't do well on these finals next semester wouldn't matter. It would all be C's and D's.

Monday was their study day, but they still went to all of their regular classes for reviews. She can feel all eyes on her when she enters the classroom. Yesterday she had stayed in her room and didn't speak to anyone, so she felt incredibly distant and socially neglected. Her mind couldn't process the words people were saying as fast as they were saying them. This made paying attention to the teachers almost unbearable.

She skips lunch to go to the library and make some note cards. She's still exhausted and coming down. The silence is refreshing and wraps around her like a warm blanket. Trying to study became a stressful event when her serotonin-drained mind couldn't fathom a world where it mattered.

She only looks up from her book when she hears the chair across from her scraping on the floor. "Hey!" Ally greets her in a hushed voice. "There you are. Been looking for you all lunch."

"Nutrition," Emma steals Peter's joke. "They call it nutrition."

"Ha ha," Ally replies sarcastically. "Take a break, we gotta talk."

"Al," she sighs tapping her pen uncomfortably, "I have to study. I'm fucked if I fail."

"Yeah, we're all fucked if we fail. Study tonight, talk now."

"What's up?" Emma gives up and sets down the pen.

"You know what's up," she says in a sing-song way.

"Look, I don't know what happened. It just did, and I want to forget about it," Emma closes her eyes. "I'm going to drinking until I forget."

"Em, you know how I feel about this whole situation," Ally pauses. "I am all for an Emma, Roman banging situation."

"Please don't-"

"What? You're both hot. I'm sure you had very aesthetically pleasing sex."

"I don't want to talk about it, Ally. I fucked up, I want to forget it."

"I just think you should think about why you were so willing to-"

"I wasn't so _willing_ ," Emma corrects her.

"Not from what I heard."

"Who told you all of this anyway?"

"Everyone knows," Emma bites her lip and looks up to the ceiling. "It's Hemlock, everyone knows everything." _Not everything_ she thinks.

"I was drunk, I was high, and I just wanted to be with someone. It didn't matter who."

"But it does matter," Ally says. She's right, it did matter who it was.

"I know," she huffs. "I did some dumb shit, and now I'm stuck thinking about it."

"So why?"

"I just wanted to. I wanted to, so I did it." Ally gives her a sad half-smile. "I'm such a dumbass," Emma puts her head into her hands. It's hitting her now that if Roman got into a spiteful mood he really could ruin her life. "I'm stupid."

"No you're not," Ally stops her before she can continue on the rant. "You should probably talk to him, though." Emma knows she's right, but there's no way in fucking hell she'll do that. She tells herself that later that night she'll text him.

 __________________

In the cafeteria, Peter holds out the sheet of paper. Every 30 seconds or so he looks up to see if Roman is around. He's read the letter too many times to count. He looks to Letha absentmindedly. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"I don't get it," he repeats. "What's important about it?"

"It's just weird," she shrugs. "I don't know, eery?"

"I mean, Leeth, it's a suicide note. They're not normally happy."

"I know but what does he mean by don't let her ruin you?" Letha asks expecting no answer. "I'm just worried..."

"About your dad?"

"Yeah, and Roman," she shrugs.

"Has he ever seen this?" She shakes her head. "Maybe we should show him."

"No, no, no, no!" She shuts him down. "We are not doing that."

"Maybe it'd be good for him? A last piece of-"

"Put it away," Letha interrupts when she sees Roman and Shelley approaching them. Peter quickly shoves it back in his jacket and turns to greet them. "Hey!"

"Hi," Roman mumbles. Shelley offers a small wave and sits next to Letha. The girls begin conversing about their day and their finals.

"You," Peter leans in towards Roman, "didn't think I'd want to know?"

"Want to know what?" Roman asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Whose underwear I touched." Roman lets out a little chuckle.

"Didn't think it mattered," he shrugs, mouth full.

"Didn't..." Peter's jaw hangs open. "I could kick your ass right now." Roman laughs. "What?"

"That's funny."

"It's not a joke!" Peter says a bit too loudly causing Letha and Shelley to look up. "Excuse us ladies, we have a private matter to attend to."

"A private _best friends_ matter," Roman adds then follows Peter to their stairwell. "I don't get what the fuck your deal is," he says as soon as the door is closed.

"My deal," Peter pulls out a cigarette and lights it, "is that you didn't think telling me you and Emma were good now was important. I told you, we need-"

"Oh," Roman shakes his head and grins, "we're not good."

"No?"

"No, we just fucked."

"Goddamnit, Roman," Peter turns and pounds his fist into the wall.

"Like you're so innocent," he rolls his eyes. This causes Peters head to snap. "I know, I'm not stupid."

"That's up for debate," Peter mumbles.

"So, we're even," Roman proposes.

"Even," he agrees. Roman takes the remainder of Peter's cigarette to finish it. "Remember, full moon on Saturday. We gotta plan."

"Couldn't forget if I tried," he offers his friend a small smile. "Oh, first, you'll like this," he says holding the cigarette between his lips. He reaches into his back pocket to grab his phone.

" _Roman_ ," Peter looks at him sternly.

"I'm just saying," he points between the two of them. "Next time."

__________________

Surprisingly Emma keeps her promise to herself. She sends him a very simple and politely text asking him to delete the pictures he has taken of her. She expects him to say no and has accepted that fate. She didn't expect to be left on read all night.

Emma can't sleep or study through the anxiety washing over her. She couldn't text him again asking why he won't respond, he'd think she was pathetic. Also, she can't bring herself to believe he would ever do anything malicious with them.

On the other side of the phone, Roman sits alone in the bathtub doing a line. He sees his phone light up with a text from her and sits up to grab it. He smiles thinking that she's at home begging for him to come over for the night. Begging him to fuck her good again.

He huffs angrily when he sees that's not the case. He almost texts her back but just gets more frustrated. He slings the phone across the cold tile floor surely cracking the screen. What kind of a person does she think he is? She's made it pretty damn clear how she feels about him, but still, how could she think that?

He quickly leans forward and does another line, fury filling his brain. _What a fucking cunt_. He shudders remembering the details of that night. He collects the leftover coke on his fingers and rubs it on his gums. If he keeps telling himself how pathetic she was that night and still is, he'll forget how small he felt. How pathetic it was for him to cry for no reason.

They both have their art final in the morning. It's an essay critiquing an art piece or artist of their choosing. Emma chooses to write about Dali overall and his relationship to the human body. Roman writes about the Mona Lisa because fuck if he paid attention to anything that happened. It doesn't really matter either. If he failed he would still have a whole company when he graduates. And he won't fail because he could have her husband fired from the institute.

Everyone had some form of connection to the Godfrey family, so they would never fail him, because of the implication.

She leaves the room feeling pretty good about it. Art wasn't something that she really had to study for. The teacher liked her well enough, and Emma had opinions on the pieces, so it came naturally.

The rest of the week did not go so well. She has her Lit final in the morning and sitting near Roman for the entirety of their final had gotten her stomach in knots. She knows that all he wants is for her to approach him, but she won't give in. She runs out of the classroom as soon as the bell rings.

She's been doing a lot of walking here lately. Normally this time of year she would let him drive her home instead of dealing with the freezing winds. The snow came a bit early this year and began flurrying on her way that day. Emma pulls her wool beanie down to cover her ears and pulls the hood of her coat over that. She'll have to ask her mom for a new coat, the down in this one is separating and this winter's going to be more brutal than normal.

Emma unlocks her front door and tries to move around the house as quietly as possible. She kicks off her books and set them by the door. She dumps out her book bag on to the couch and spreads her notes and books out on the coffee table. About 30 minutes into studying her stomach grumbles, actually hungry for once.

She tries her best to be silent while making a grilled cheese, but she pulls the frying pan out and a few others topple with it. She stays still and listens to her mom shuffle to her bedroom door. She recognizes the creak of the door and takes a deep breath. "Emma, quiet," her mother shouts down the stairs. "I've got work tonight and I'm exhausted."

"Sorry," Emma calls up to her. She steps away from the pans on the floor, she'll clean up later. Defeated, she grabs a granola bar and goes back to her makeshift study space.

Her Lit final shouldn't be too hard. She's somehow managed to read the assigned reading and retained some of it. However, the teacher was the kind who didn't tell them what was on the final. She doesn't even know which books to focus on so she plans to cram for all of them.

Emma breaks about an hour in to take a nap but doesn't end up waking until the noise of her mom shuffling around upstairs wakes her. She stretches and rises from her place on the couch to make dinner.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell earlier," Kay says, starting a pot of coffee. "I was a long night."

"It's all good," Emma doesn't look up from the boiling water on the stove.

"We had a guy try to commit suicide come in the ER, and we already short-staffed so it was a mess. Everyone was down there and it was just me and Chrissy alone upstairs."

"That sounds rough."

"It was, poor guy, didn't make it," she pours herself a cup of coffee. "How are finals?"

"I think they're good," Emma starts putting plates on the two-person table. "I took my art one today, I think I did well. I have literature tomorrow so I'm studying for that tonight."

"Good, good," Kay takes a seat. "Winter break will be a nice vacation."

"Yeah, I think I might see about getting a job. I don't want to get too bored," she makes her way across the kitchen and sits across from her mom.

"Nope," she shakes her head. "What did we say about jobs? No job, just-"

"Focus on school, I know, I know. But it's break and I don't want to get bored."

"I'll think about it."

"I'm 18," Emma points out.

"And you live in my house," Kay smiles to her daughter. "You gotta keep those grades up for scholarships."

"I know," she uses her fork to push her food around on her plate. "I need a new coat."

"Okay. I'm off next Monday, we could go look for one and get dinner? I still owe for your birthday."

"Sounds good," Emma nods.

"We'll get you some more sweaters too," she yanks at Emma's sleeve showing her the hole in the underside of it. "I don't want you wearing this raggedy stuff to school."

"It's the style," she chuckles. "It's thrift-store chic."

Once her mother has left for work, Emma finds herself sitting in the living room trying to study again. She's made so many note cards that it has to be physically impossible to have left something out. At least she hopes it is. She's so focused that she barely hears her phone vibrate. In a rush, she grabs it hoping it's Roman finally texting her back. It's not, of course.

 

_F_ _rom Unknown number: Hey! I'm back in town, wanna go grab a coffee or something?_

_Maybe. It depends on who this is, she replies._

_It's Beck._

 

__________________

 

"You're really good at this," Roman smiles looking down at the notes she helped him make.

"Thanks," the girl, Amanda, blushes. They're sitting on her bedroom floor, binders and books spread everywhere.

"I should have asked you to help me out years ago. I'd probably be a hell of a lot smarter."

"You're plenty smart," she replies looking up at him. "You just have to put in the effort." Roman likes Amanda, at least as much as he's capable of. He does think she's a nice girl and she's not stupid either. He knows she thinks he's cute and that she knows what kind of guy he is. He also knows she doesn't care. Right now, he's feeling pretty good about life.

"Well, I don't want to put in effort if it means I don't need your help."

"You are ridiculous, you know that?" She laughs at him.

"What?" He smiles.

"You are putting in way more effort trying to fuck me than you did this entire class."

"You caught me!" He throws his hands up. "I'll admit it."

"You really should just be straight forward," she leans back, resting her head on the bottom of her mattress.

"Most girls aren't into that."

"I guess I'm not like most girls, then," she shrugs. "But I'd argue that most do prefer honesty."

It's around 20 minutes later that Roman realizes that not all of his problems are fixed.


	14. Crooked Nature

With the end of the semester here, it only makes sense to celebrate over a wide array of drugs and alcohol. Emma has full intentions of indulging. After her experience last weekend she knows it would be wise to stay away, but she wants to drink away that memory for a night. After all, "I'm never drinking again" is just a lie no one means.

Once she hears the front door lock and her mom drive away, she begins layering on foundation. Her skin is still a disaster but she's become more accustomed to it. She had always been lucky to have pretty good skin, but her reflection is just grey and dull. Luckily, she has makeup and will use as much as she needs to look a little alive.

She and a few of the girls from her friend group meet up at Kim's to pregame beforehand. She sits on Kim's bed in an absurdly large bedroom as the other girls dance around and take shots. She can hear them giggling about something, but she's fixated on her beer and by a small bruise she just noticed on her leg.

"Em? Em?" She hears someone call.

"Huh?" She looks up to see Kim approaching.

"You good?" She asks. "You look kind of sick. Are you sure you're okay to go?"

"Yeah," Emma nods quickly. There's no way she's missing tonight. "I'm fine, probably just tired." Kim nods and turns away but she still looks concerned. Truth be told Emma is just nervous about who may and may not be there tonight. Her suspensions of gossip had only been proven as the week progressed.

She's a small-town teenage girl, so she's used to people talking about her. The thing is- those were always just lies. The truer they were the more they hurt. And here lately they were true more often than false.

By the time the girls finally finish with their hairspray and lipgloss and finally make their way to the party it's pretty crowded and she keeps losing people. She uses this opportunity to dodge her way out of the crowd and into a smaller space with fewer people. It's too cold outside to sit at her favorite place on the porch so she joins a group of junior guys on the couch in the sunroom. They're all kind of goofy, and definitely drunk, but they're interested in her.

They ask her all sorts of questions and laugh at all of her drunkenly bad jokes. It feels good. One of them keeps placing his hand on her leg and covering the bruise. She  keeps pushing it away but after a few more tries she allows it to linger. After a little while, she grows bored with the superficial conversation and excuses herself. She sees from the corner of her eye a lone figure on the back deck.

"You mind if I join you?" She asks, opening the door.

Scotty motions to beside him. "Need a light?"

"Please," he obliges.

"How do you like the party so far?"

"It's good, as always," she takes a drag. "You're always a great host."

"What can I say? Being the child of the always-absent parents has its benefits."

"You're lucky they go out of town on the weekends. My mom is only gone at nights."

"Yeah," he agrees. "It's pretty sick I guess." They stand in silence smoking for a few minutes. Emma puts out her only halfway finished cigarette and returns the leftover to its place in the carton. She taps her fingers on the railing and sucks on her bottom lip. "You glad the semesters over?"

"Yeah," she nods. "It's been rough. You?"

"Eh," he exhales. "I'm not sure. I think I might have peaked."

"If you peaked, I peaked," they laugh before resuming silence. Typically the two of them aren't left alone, and when they are it's never been this awkward. Emma's mind races through ways to excuse herself from his presence.

"I heard Beck asked you on a date," he finally speaks.

"I wouldn't say a date. He wants to get coffee."

"He said it was a date."

"Interesting," her brows furrow.

"I told him not to ask you."

"Why?" She looks Scotty up and down looking for some form of body language but the boy is far too stoned.

"Well, you're not really a dating kind of person. It would be kinda mean to go on a date with him?"

"What are you trying to say?" She laughs, a little shocked by the words leaving his mouth.

"I'm saying that you don't actually like him. I'm saying that you've spent your whole life running around this town with Godfrey, and you're just like him."

"I'm _nothing_ like him." She shakes her head.

"I'm not trying to be rude," he puts his hands up defensively. "Just telling you what I think you should hear."

"Well thank you," she replies sarcastically. "I love when people use honesty as a reason to be an asshole," she begins to walk away but stops abruptly and makes a 360. She walks back towards him and pokes his chest. "And  _never_ compare me to him again. You don't know fuck about me!" She spits out then turns around to leave. She stops in her place when she hears his voice again.

"I know you fucked Peter even though he's with Letha, I know you fucked Travis, I know you fucked Lexi's boyfriend, do you want the whole list? Because I can keep going. Saddest of all I know you fucked Godfrey. And I know you've been a grade-a cunt for the last two months. You do whatever you want with no thoughts about it makes other people feel. So, you kinda are just like him."

Emma contemplates what to say back but comes up with a blank. Everything he said is true, at least to some extent. She didn't think she had been ' _grade-a cunt_ ,' but maybe that's how other people see her. So stays turned around and leaves him standing there.

She stumbles through the crowded house to the front door. She tries to draw minimal attention to herself and not make eye contact. One of the guys from earlier grabs her arm as she walks by him. After a few seconds of struggling she breaks free for his hand. When she finally makes it to the front door she's covered in who knows how many other peoples sweat. Once on the front porch, she breathes in the cold air thankful for it for the first time all winter. She slips on the partially ice-covered steps landing in the snow below. Part of it hurts, but it's overwhelmed by the hilarity of it.

Scotty's house isn't that far away from her house but it's enough to make her a little nervous. It's just on the other side of the 'historic downtown' of Hemlock, but in the cold dark, it feels like the trek is taking four times as long. She regrets not wearing a coat about ten seconds into walking.

The street lights of Main Street come into view just as she doesn't know how much further she can walk. She passes under them, snow lightly falling and sticking to her hair. She looks up to the cheerful banners hanging from them. The banners switch between a wreath with 'Noel' in a cursive text below them, and an image of Santa holding his sack of presents.

The 24 hour diner's neon sign shines down on her like the Star of Bethlehem. She dodges in, needing a break from the cold before she makes the other half of her journey. She bites her lip in regret once she enters and sees a familiar face. She's been seen and it's too late to turn around. Destiny smiles at her and waves her over. Emma follows her wave and takes a seat on a barstool at the counter. They only met that one time, and she's surprised she even recognizes her.

"Haven't seen you around in a while..." Destiny tries to pry as she leans onto the counter.

"Yeah, been busy with school," Emma shakes off the remaining snow from her hair. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Well, you know, with all the shit people say about Peter, and us having the same last name... It's not exactly good for my personal business."

"I can imagine," Emma replies, unsure of how to converse with this woman she barely knows.

"Peter said you and Roman don't speak anymore?" Emma just shakes her head but doesn't move to speak. "You want coffee?"

"Sure," she nods.

"You need somewhere to stay tonight?" Destiny asks, pouring her a cup. "You look like shit."

"My house isn't far away," Emma takes a sip, burning her tongue a little.

"I insist. Can I see your hand?" Destiny asks but doesn't wait on a reply. She grabs the hand that's not holding the coffee mug and turns her palm upright. She traces a line and her lips turn into a frown. When she notices Emma looking at her she smiles again. "Do you ever see things? Things that aren't real?"

"No."

"Hear things?"

"No. Why?"

"I told you the first time we met that you had an interesting aura and I want to know why," Destiny bends over to meet her at eye level. She squints as if she's trying to find something on her face. "You're not special."

"Thanks, I know," Emma throws at fake smile to her. Destiny looks around at the sparsely crowded diner.

"I'm off in 20, can you hang around?" She asks. "I don't this is a discussion we should have in public. You need to thaw out anyways."

"Okay," Emma complies. She watches Destiny disappear into the back room. She returns with her leather jacket and hands it to her.

"Warm-up," she demands.

For the next twenty minutes, Emma sits at her place at the counter people watching. The diner is scarcely populated except for a few middle-aged men playing cards in the corner. It's a strange time of night to be out, that's for sure. A group of rowdy kids who had definitely just left Scotty's house came in and take up a booth.

Emma, thankfully, doesn't recognize them and sits there in silence. She downs another cup of coffee and takes of Destiny's coat. The other waitress carries out several plates of greasy burgers and fries to the loud table. It makes her mouth water and she needs to get away from the intoxicating smell. All she wants is to eat but she knows the moment it's set down in front of her she'll feel nauseous and full.

She grabs her bag from the stool next to her and stands to step outside. Destiny rushes over to catch her before she even moves an inch. "Just going to smoke," Emma holds up her cigarettes. "I'll be back." Destiny nods as she moves towards the door.

Outside she stands under the little covering away from the snow. She takes her time making her way through her cigarette and checking her phone for the time. Time is moving so slowly as she waits for Destiny to get off. The exhaustion is also settling in. She wishes she had just said no so she could go home, finish off her flask, and go to bed. Emma seems to be particularly bad at saying no these days.

\------

Destiny unlocks the front door to her apartment and holds it open for Emma. The self-aware part of her brain yells at her for coming with this stranger, but the cynical side doesn't care. "Let me get you something more comfortable to wear," Destiny says as she turns on a lamp. Emma nods and waits on her to return.

Once they're both changed and warm Destiny pats the seat next to her on the couch. She joins her, sitting in an uncomfortably straight position. "Give me your hands." Emma holds out both of her hands. Destiny grabs a hold of both of them and closes her eyes. They sit like that for god knows how long, but Emma's growing annoyed with it.

"Why am I here?" She finally asks, interrupting Destiny's concentration.

"The same reason I told you earlier. I want to figure you out," Destiny replies after a few more moments of silence. She opens her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip.

"I don't think there's anything to figure out. You said it yourself, I'm not special."

"There's something different about you. I just meant you're not special, not like Peter or Roman."

"Roman?" Emma asks.

"He doesn't know," Destiny hesitates before continuing. "But, I think you can tell that there's something different about him."

"What is he?"

"You'll either find out one day or if you're lucky you won't."

"I don't understand."

"Nothing about Roman will bring the world any good. Only pain. But you know that, don't you? You've experienced it." This makes Emma a little sad to hear out loud. Despite how much she despises him, she wanted to be hopeful that he could be better. That he could learn to be kinder. "It's not all his fault, but he's still a piece of shit and I don't like him."

"Can you see everything?"

"No I can just feel your emotions, but if you give me your intestines I can," Destiny jokes. Emma doesn't reply, stomach-turning at how much knowledge Destiny had. "I can feel your pain, it's a lot. And betrayal, and shame, and sadness... But I don't know why."

"Okay," she feels a bit relieved.

"And you're scared of sleeping. Why?"

"I have nightmares."

"Of what?" Emma gives her a brief synopsis of them. "The same three?" She nods yes.

"Always the same three."

"Does this happen every night?"

"No, just some."

"How deep are you into the hole? Is the time of day changing?"

"There's about a foot or so over my head now," Emma thinks for a moment. "I don't think the time is changing. It's always night time."

"I wonder what it means," Destiny says to herself.

"I don't think it means anything," Emma tells her. "I think I just happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time, with the wrong people. I'm just here."

"No one is ever 'just here.' The stars aligned this way for a reason."

"I don't know what that reason is," she shrugs.

"Me either. But, I do know," Destiny clenches her teeth then continues. " Their connection isn't to the vargulf or the events." Emma looks at her confused. "It's to Roman."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean- it's hard to explain.." Destiny traces the lines on her hand. "It's like second-hand smoke, or contact high. You're getting second-hand visions. That's not exactly it, but it's hard to explain."

"Keep trying," Emma says sternly. "Why me? Why not Letha or Shelley?"

"I told you when we first met you have an interesting aura, but I don't think that's it."

"What is it?" Emma is just tired enough to buy into the pseudo-science her sober self would roll her eyes at.

"I think there's something tying you to him, something inside you," Destiny stares with such strong intensity into her eyes Emma has to look away. "Something in your blood."

"In my blood?"

"Are you sure you don't see things?"

"Absolutely."

"Where is your family from?"

"My mom's family is Scottish and Irish. I don't know about my dad."

"Interesting," Destiny says slowly.

"Are you always this cryptic?"

"Pretty much," she shrugs. "Contrary to what my cousin believes, I can't know everything. Or sometimes I know something is best not to share."

"Do you not know, or are you not sharing with me now?" Emma asks her softly. Destiny doesn't answer. She stands and hands Emma the blanket from the back of the couch.

"Get some sleep."

"I don't understand," Emma says wanting to learn more, but she lays down as soon as the grabs the blanket.

"There are things that I can't tell you because there are things I don't know," she turns to go to her room. "It's just a bunch of hocus pocus witch stuff anyway," she tries to reassure Emma not to worry. And while that would normally be here outlook on the idea of spells and witchcraft, watching someone turn into a wolf makes it a bit more believable.

Destiny turns the living room light off before shutting her door. She flops onto her bed, face down. She struggles to fall asleep, thoughts racing about the future, and how cryptic she truly had been. She couldn't help it, it was in her nature to behave that way. Some people don't need to know everything about themselves, it would drive them mad.

She wakes in the morning, well, afternoon to a quiet and empty apartment. The midday sun shines in through the curtains and she stretches her arms up high. In the living room, the blanket is folded on the back on the sofa and the door is locked as if no one has been there. The only remaining sign of a guest is a single hair strand caught in the fabric of the couch arm. Destiny sits on her knees in front of the couch, carefully unweaving the hair from its entanglement.

 


	15. Tell Me Something That I'll Forget

_And you might have to tell me again_

_It's crazy what you'll do for a friend_

 

"How long has this just been sitting in there?" Peter asks looking at the vile in Destiny had just pulled from the fridge. 

"Only a day," she shrugs.

"How did you get it?"

"I'll tell you after you tell me how everything went," she takes a seat at the dining table with a cup of coffee. "Want a cup?" Peter shakes his head and takes the seat across from her. "Alright, speak."

"Do I at least get a treat?" He jokes but she doesn't bite. "Look, nothing really happened. Roman had a dumb plan and thankfully no one died."

"I don't think that's a good thing." He gives her a questioning look. "It means he's beginning to neglect the cycles completely. The longer that happens the more wolf he becomes."

"So time's really running out, huh?"

"Looks like it, kiddo."

"How much longer?" He asks, fingers tapping the table.

"February, March at the latest."

"And then what?"

"He becomes an it. And it will be stronger, stronger than you. It won't be restricted to certain times in the month or day. It will kill day and night. Kill anyone."

"Are you still seeing what you did before?" Destiny nods. She opens the top and swirls her fingers around until she finds the single strand of hair. She carefully removes and places it on the table. She gags when it stays stuck to her finger. "I've seen you eat a worm filled with dead girl guts. A hair? Really?" Peter laughs at her.

"We all have things, this is my thing," she glares at him. She lifts the vile into the air. "Bottoms up." Peter watches in disgust as she downs the slimy grey liquid. "Gross."

"Yeah," he nods. "How long?"

"If everything works correctly, I should dream everything I need tonight," she gets up to grab a beer from the fridge to wash down the taste. "Then, if my visions were true... we'll figure something out."

___________

Emma's hand grazes across the clothing hangers creating that familiar clinking sound. She stops every few seconds to look at something she's passed then continues on. A dark blue sweater catches her eye and she pulls it off the rack. "That's nice," she hears her mom mumble.

"Yeah, it's cute," she continues to browse, picking up a few more. She makes her way towards the coats rack and finds a nice one she likes but it's too small on her. "I can't find anything," she tells Kay.

"How about this one?" She holds up possibly the ugliest piece of clothing Emma has ever seen in real like.

"No," she shakes her head. "This one's fine," she holds the heavy forest green coat out to her mom.

"Try it on." Emma hands Kay her purse and slides the coat on over her clothes. "It looks good! How does it feel?"

"It's fine," Emma nods. "This is good."

"How much is it?" Emma searches for the tag.

"Fifteen."

"Good deal," she nods. "Let's try these sweaters on and get to dinner." 

Emma goes into the dressing room with the handful of sweaters she's found and hangs them up. The first two get a nod from her mom, the third one gets held up. "Emily, hole on the shoulder."

"It's fine," she shrugs.

"Nope," Kay shakes her head. "No holes, it looks cheap."

"It is cheap?" She laughs. "We are literally at a thrift store, this sweater is like a dollar."

"You know what I meant. Go try on the others."

They check out and make their way back to the car. It's lightly snowing and a bit windy. The sun's still up but it teases dusk. The two women sit in the car rubbing their hands together waiting for it to heat up. "You want to do anything else?" Kay asks Emma shakes her head. "It's your not birthday-birthday celebration."

"Thanks, Mom," she chuckles at the poor joke. "I'm okay."

"Oh, come on," Kay rolls her eyes. "We could go get your eyebrows done."

"Are my eyebrows bad?"

"No," she pauses. "Well, look at me." She puts her hand on Emma's face and turns it in all sorts of directions until she's satisfied. "They're not great."

"Would it make you happy if we got my eyebrows waxed?" Her mom shakes her head. "Then let's do it."

 

___________

 

Emma sits across from her mom. They laugh at both of their miserable attempts to use chopsticks and how her eyebrows are still red. They go to the same Japanese restaurant every year for Emma's birthday and sit at the same table. It was a constant in the chaos of her childhood. "I'm using a fork," Kay drops the chopsticks.

"Same, I'm too hungry for this," she stabs her fork into a dumpling.

"So, how is school?"

"It's good," she lies. "It's been a weird semester so things are kind of weird."

"I'd imagine. Are teachers at least understanding?"

"I don't think many people are bothered anymore."

"It's a shame, but it's true. I guess people have gotten used to it." Emma nods agreeing. "I just can't imagine what these parents are going through. I don't what I'd do if I lost you. After the accident the thoughts never left my head?"

"Accident?" Emma doesn't recall a car accident.

"At the Godfrey's, when you almost drowned."

"Drowned?" Emma cocks her head.

"Yeah, remember? You fell in the pool at Roman's house."

"No, I don't remember that."

"I guess you were pretty young," Kay says. "You fell in the pool without floaties on. Olivia wasn't even going to tell me, one of the nannies did. She wasn't watching you guys closely."

"And you let me go swimming over there again?"

"I forgave her." she shrugs. "I knew she felt really bad about it."

"Why have we never talked about this?"

"It never came up. I honestly thought you remembered!" Kay truly did. "After that, I had decided I wasn't going to let you go over there anymore. But then Roman's dad died and your dad had just left, and I thought the two of you could understand each other."

"Do you know where Dad is?" Emma asks slowly, gently stepping on the subject. "Have you ever known?"

"No, never knew where he went. He sent his child support and that was that."

"No address? Not even on the check?"

"He sent cash. Nothing else."

That was the most that had been spoken about the absent family member in the past decade. There was a silent unspoken rule to never speak about him. No memories, no statements, and most definitely no questions. The man had disappeared into the night and took all of his secrets with him.

Emma can't remember what his face looks like, only a rough outline of his features. She has more memories of Roman's father than her own, at least positive memories. She knows that she only shared vague similarities with him, that's what Olivia always told her. She always said that was a good thing. 

Once home, he hangs up her new clothes in her closet, eye barely being caught by the black dress bag. It's hidden in the back so it's out of sight, out of mind, for the most part. Emma would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about selling it. Even with the custom tailoring, it would get her more cash than she's ever had before. Part of it felt wrong to sell, it had been a gift and Olivia wanted her to have it.

Plus, Emma kind of liked the idea that one day she might wear it somewhere. She has no idea where, but it was hers after all. The thicker wool material would be a sweaty mess by the time prom came around. 

She approaches the bag and lets her hand run over the thin polyester. It makes its way to the zipper. She hesitates, she hasn't seen the dress since that day she tried it on. Most of her memory of that day is a blur, blocked out my binge drinking, but she remembers Olivia handing it to her to try on. She didn't even look at any of the other dresses, she just knew that this was the one she wanted Emma to wear.

She remembers being thankful that she didn't hate it. When someone is buying you a $5000 dress you don't get to be picky, or at least that's how she feels. She's worn some really ugly things out of respect for Olivia. After that, the day turns into a supercut of all of the worst parts. 

Before she knows it, Emma is standing in front of her mirror with the dress on. The neckline fits loosely now, and the waist is a bit wide, but it's still a beautiful piece of clothing. She spends a long time looking at herself. She doesn't feel like the same person she was when she tried it on, probably because she's not.

Still wearing the dress, she does the thing that all girls do at some point in their lives. She grabs a pair of scissors from her desk and goes to town. With no hesitation, she cuts off seven or eight inches until her hair hangs choppy below her chins. It's a rough look for sure, she'll get someone to fix it in the morning.

She takes the dress off, not bothering to hang it up. Instead, she balls it up and tosses it onto the floor in the back corner of the closet. She wouldn't want to wear it even if she had a reason to.

 

___________

 

The two boys sit across from each other in a risky dink donut shop that hasn't been remodeled since the '80s. Roman brings Peter a cup of coffee and sets down the box of donuts. "I talked to Destiny last night," Peter says, pouring sugar into his coffee.

"Yeah?" Roman takes a bit from his donut. 

"She said that we should be concerned people aren't dying." Roman shoots him a confused look. "It means the cycles are having less and less of an effect on him, he might not have even turned this time."

"How is that possible?" Roman asks, licking the remaining powdered sugar off his fingers. "Why would he chose to not to change, he has to know that's bad, right?"

"Crazy people don't know they're crazy, and a monster doesn't know it's a monster," Peter shrugs and stares down at the table. "She said we have until March at the latest, after that there's not much we can do."

"I thought this would be easier," Roman chuckles, stealing Peters cup for a drink. "I'm bored. It never takes this long in the movies."

"I'm going back to Des' tonight. She's getting some information that I think might be helpful. If it is, we might be able to do something."

"Like what?" Roman dives in on another donut. 

"I'm not sure yet," he lies.

"Should I come?"

"No," Peter says, "I think she wants to talk to me first." 

 

___________

 

"What happened?" Peter asks, not even making it through the door that Destiny barely had open. He can tell by the look on her face it's not good.

"Take a seat," she tells him. He slowly makes his way to the couch and sits. She sits on the floor across from him.

"I was right, like normal," she tells him, but there is no joy in her face. "It's too bad, she seems sweet."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Destiny nods.

"That doesn't mean it has to be related to the vargulf, or anytime soon."

"True," she reaches out for his hands trying to provide some comfort. "But I wouldn't put my money on it. It's too many coincidences." Peter sighs and leans back, defeated.

"It's my fault," Peter pulls. "We should have never came here."

"That's not- it wouldn't matter," she tries to comfort her cousin, but is failing. "The prediction would still be the prediction. It was just supposed to happen this way."

"Did she tell you about her dreams?" Destiny nods. "What do you think they mean?"

"I truly don't know," she looks a bit helpless which is very unlike her. "I have a couple thoughts, but nothing really concrete. I'm meeting up with a few friends next week and I'll get their opinions."

"Now, what do me and Roman do? What's next?"

"Goddamn, Peter, I don't have all the answers," she says a little harsher than she meant to. "What I meant is you're the one with wolf powers. I can just see stuff occasionally."

"Well, fuck."

"I think," she stops to plan her words carefully, "if we can get Emma to help," she stops again. "If vargulf is attracting her, maybe she can attract the vargulf." Peter stares at her dumbfounded.

"You want me to use her as wolf bait?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"Not as bait, as a tracker."

"She doesn't want to help Des, she's said so. Multiple times, at that," Peter explains.

"She might not want to help, but she can't stop what's happening," Destiny puts up a hand to stop him from speaking more. "She's walking around at night by herself, everyone knows that's a fucking death wish in this town. There's something in her pulling her to her future. She can't help herself."

"Are you sure?" She nods. "Even if we kill the vargulf?" She nods again.

"The Ursitory don't lie. You know that damn well. If it's what's supposed to happen it will happen."

"What about the other ones?"

"They're not mine to tell."

 

 

 

Across Hemlock Grove three separate kids are having a hard time sleeping.

Emma lays awake that night, trying to remember the story her mother had told her. She remembers being sent to swimming lessons but that's it.

Roman tosses and turns and eventually turn the lamp on to stare up into nothing. He can't remember what he's trying to remember.

Peter doesn't even make it to his bed, settling into the hammock. He counts the stars until his eyes get dizzy and he's too cold to stay out in the snow anymore.

 


	16. Winter Song

Growing up, Emma loved Christmas. Truly loved it. Most kids do because of Santa, but Emma loved the season. She loved the smell of cookies and the tree in the living room. Traditions were strange at her house. When she was too young to stay home alone, her mom worked days and only some nights when they _really_ needed the money.

On Christmas morning, bright and early, Kay would take either take her to the neighbors' house or to Roman's house. This was the only time she didn't want to go to Roman's. Mr. and Mrs. Whelan were an older couple whose kids had long moved away and had kids of their own. They would give her a single present when she got there, always something weird like an elaborately designed wooden cross Mr. Piece had hand-carved in his garage. Emma still had four or five of them packed away in the attic. One year Mrs. Whelan made her and embroidered horseshoe. Emma had never even seen a horse in real life before.

It was always too hot there, and they made her eat hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, but it was better than the alternative. She knew that as soon as her mom came to get her that evening they would go home and she would open her real presents and they'd watch a movie.

Christmas at the Godfrey Mansion was suffocating. Olivia went overboard on Christmas aesthetics but not traditions. The grounds had an unimaginable amount of lights. They were always white and looked classy. She never let the children believe in Santa, but the tree would be surrounded by gifts- all the newest toys and electronics.

Emma hated going there on Christmas morning. It only happened a handful of times, but that was more than she liked. As soon as her mom would hand her to Roman's nanny, she would be whisked away upstairs and shoved into either a fluffy or a velvet dress. Then the nanny would have to force her into tights and a pair of black childrens Mary Jane shoes. At her age, the tiny platforms on the back felt like stilettos. She would spend all day looking down at her feet trying her hardest to not scuff them, knowing that would lead to an outburst from the nanny.

Olivia wouldn't even be in the room when Roman and Shelley opened presents. Emma would always have exactly three presents under the tree with her name on them.

The Godfrey's did a Christmas brunch. They would sit at the dinner table with it completely set for a formal event. Emma thinks one time Letha and her family came, but she's not sure. They would sit in the dining room, spines perfectly straight, eating a meal much too large for the few of them.

Roman decides to abandon the whole "Godfrey Christmas" this year. Instead, he opts for a Rumancek one. He feels a little bad leaving Shelley at home, but he makes sure to spend time with her before going. He gifts her several pieces of jewelry. Of course, she can't wear it, not yet. When he graduates, though, Olivia will be gone and she can do as she wants.

He drives down to the trailer with a bag of small gifts inside. Peter made it clear that Roman should not spend money on them, even though Roman wanted to spoil his only friend. He agrees to the terms of small gifts only. Roman's never really picked out presents for anyone other than Shelley and Letha. He never bought his mom anything, and just gave silly trinkets and expensive things to his aunt and uncle.

He did buy Leah Ryans a rose on Valentine's day sophomore year- but that only because he wanted her to blow him (she did.) His mom always picked out Emma's gifts when they were kids and he only picked out one when they were 13. He had bought her a really nice charm bracelet that all the other girls had. It had ended it some fairly mean comments from classmates and she gave it back the same day.

From then on they always did something. She didn't accept any presents from him, and only from Olivia when she insisted.

He remembers when Kay would pick Emma up he begged Olivia to let him go with them. She didn't, of course, but he always tried. He doesn't know why now. Nothing special would happen, the two of them would go home, eat TV dinners, and watch a movie. Roman had never even had a TV dinner.

When Lynda finally opens the door, he's hit in the face with the smell of a million unfamiliar scents and spices. Some of the food is already finished and covered in the kitchen. He's greeted with a strangely inviting atmosphere. Christmas music plays lightly in the background. The holiday is so merry here.

"Merry Christmas," Lynda says bringing her hands up to his cheeks Destiny sits on the couch and stays stone-cold at his arrival. She does eventually break under the holiday and spirit and mumbles out a welcome to him. Peter calls out a hello from the kitchen where he is finishing up with the turkey. "Take a seat," Lynda shoves him towards the couch.

He sits and gives Destiny and little nod and smile. She crosses her arms and leans back onto the couch, staring at the tv. Roman hasn't quite figured out why she doesn't like him, but he hasn't given up on trying to get her to warm up to him. It felt like they had been somewhere, at least for Peter's sake, but it seems that's now gone.

She loosens up after a couple of glasses of eggnog- they all do. Lynda begins sharing stories of Christmas with all the different groups of people they've lived with, and all the places they've lived. She tells him everyone has their own traditions, but at the end of the day, it's just about spending time together. While curious, Lynda doesn't ask what it's like in the stoic and cold mansion, she knows the gist of it.

Over the years, the Parker girls had grown from TV dinners to a proper holiday meal. Kay began working night shifts once she was old enough to be home alone, so traditions changed. Her mom would come home from work in the morning and nap while Emma cooked. They would go about their normal traditions until it was time to leave again. She liked it this way a lot better.

 

The holiday was a beautiful break from the unusually quiet winter break.

 

As children, they both spent their winter breaks running around the mansion finding new hallways, or doors to rooms they'd never seen before. To the eyes of small children, the house was a maze of adventure. After seeing the Narnia movie, both of them would lock themselves in the wardrobe of a spare bedroom. Eventually one of the nannies found out and both were in trouble.

The first nanny Emma remembers was an older woman named Mary. She kept her hair pulled back in a tight bun and always wore skirts with tan stockings. Mary was a part of a "stern parenting" phase Olivia had tried out. One sweltering hot July morning, when Emma and Roman were five or six, they had been running around the backyard and on the trampoline.

They were both taking turns sitting while the other one jumped and both were pretty tired. At some point, they both had been jumping and Roman fell onto the side and bruised his arm. He cried a bit at the pain but sniffed it back once Mary approached. Emma had come closer to try and make him feel better. Roman was worried about getting in trouble for hurting himself, but confusion struck him as soon as he saw Mary yank Emma down to the ground by her right arm. She continued to drag the girl until she had her seated at the time out chair.

Roman followed behind rubbing his hurt wrist and wincing at the sounds Emma made when her arm was pulled. From what his young mind could comprehend- she was in trouble for letting him get hurt. He waited up until his mom got home that night to tell her what happened. Neither of them ever saw Mary again after that.

As they got older, Roman had less of a fear of his nannies. He knew and they knew that if he threw a big enough tantrum Olivia would simply replace them. And he was good at throwing tantrums.

Roman had his last nanny at 13 after that Olivia left him to his own devices. Her name was Christy and she was younger but still too old to be cool. Every night, she would try to shoo Emma into "her" room even though _Mom said it was okay that she stayed in here_. Eventually, Roman got fed up with her trying to tell them what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is a lil backstory blurb I wrote. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you want more stuff like this!


	17. Auld Lang Syne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut smut smut alert and some potentially triggering sexual situations

"Happy New Year!" Emma hears someone shout as soon as she opens the door. She has no idea what direction it came from or who shouted it. She had come to the party alone and unsure which, if any, of her friends, would be there. She knows Scotty is throwing a competing party at his place, so it's hit or miss on who's where.

She remembers back freshman, or sophomore year, when she would come to these parties there were always girls like her there. Girls who show up alone only to leave with someone. Of course, this is her first time truly showing up alone, but she knows she's no different. The only thing separating her from them was that she still got ready to go out. At some point, those girls stopped trying and wore sweat pants an put their hair in loose buns.

Emma still takes her time doing her make-up and her hair. After last times torturous trek through town from Scotty's, she decides to dress somewhat appropriately for the weather, a plaid wool skirt instead of a polyester one. It's still cold on her walk over, but this house is only about 15 minutes away so it's bearable. Plus, she reasons, it's going to be hot inside.

Over the years, she had become a pro at showing up at the right time. Not too early, not too late, right as it's really getting going. She's handed a jello shot from a stranger and shoots it back trying to not gag on the texture. The rule of "never take a drink from a stranger' was thrown out the window a long time ago and she accepts the first solo cup passed to her.

She's never been a dancer, but after too many sugary drinks she lets herself be dragged to the middle of a sweaty group of teenagers by a guy she remembers from gym class last year. He holds her hips and pulls her a bit too closely to him. She manages to lose him in the crowd and is pulled away by someone else. She gets too hot and dizzy and pushes her way out and to the kitchen. She goes straight for the fridge, filling her cup up with water and downing it, then repeating.

A group of freshmen stand in the corner staring at her wide-eyed. Drunk, and just pissed off enough, she gives them a harsh wave. They all look away quickly but one of them approaches her. She's pretty sure she used to be friends with the weird writer girl. Her name was Allison? Anna? No that's not it- it's something with an A though.

"Hey," she smiles at Emma. Emma makes no motion to move. The girl smiles again hoping for some reply. "I'm Ashley," _ah Ashley, that was it_. Emma raises her eyebrows wanting the girl to get to the point. "I wanted to know if you'd introduce me to Roman. I know you're friends, and I think he's really cute."

"You're a little bold thing, aren't you?" She jokes. Ashley blushes and lets out a little laugh. "I'll help you out."

"Really?" She bounces on her feet, giddy.

"Yeah, here's a piece of advice," Emma leans in, face growing cold again. "You should go fuck yourself and leave me the fuck alone before I kick your ass." Ashley's eyes bulge open and she quickly turns away. She returns to her group who all look over at Emma again.

She ignores them and makes her way to the counter that's overflowing with liquor. She downs three or four shots (it might be five, but who's counting?) of tequila. When she tries to walk away she can feel her stomach-turning. She spins around just quickly enough to throw up in the sink. She knows people are watching her, but her ears are ringing and she can't hear any of them. She cups a bit of water in her hand to rinse her mouth out before grabbing her solo cup and leaning back to catch her breath.

Even with her eyes closed, when Emma hears the sound of familiar giggles and she knows what it means. She knows the girls in the corner were swooning and shying away from their dream boy: actual human disaster Roman Godfrey. She tries to stand up to leave the room before he sees her. It's too late. He's already approaching her.

Roman hadn't gone out with the intention of finding her. He didn't even come here first. He had gone to Scotty's and that's where he heard about the little altercation they had at the last party. He has to admit, it's pretty funny. Drunk and sexually frustrated, he makes up his mind as soon as her name is mentioned.

She takes a step forward before falling back to the counter. He continues approaching her, not acknowledging the people who try to say hi to him. This is the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other and the time shows. His hair is grown out further than she's seen it since he tried to go through a skater phase in the 7th grade. When he stops in front of her he barely looks at her.

"We should fuck again!" He has to yell at her ear over the loud music. She stays stone-faced for a moment telling herself ' _nope, not doing this again_ ,' before proceeding to do the exact same thing again. She follows behind him, trying not to fall. In her mind, watching him move through the crowd is like the red sea parting.

He notices her struggling to walk straight and grabs her waist to keep her moving. She barely makes it up the stairs without him picking her up. He opens a door without knocking. The bright light stings and she has to squint and look away. "Get out," Roman says to the boys doing lines off the counter. With no hesitation, they scurry from the bathroom leaving their coke behind. Roman puts a bit on the back of his hand and snorts it. His face crinkles and his lips curl into a shape of disgust. "That's shit."

Emma leans back against the door trying to not fall. He notices and helps her up onto the counter. Even in her drunken state, she can still find the humor in the night replaying itself even down to the specifics. She can hear him moving and opening up a cabinet. "Open up."

"Huh?" She forces her eyes open. He's standing between her legs with a bottle of mouth wash. "Oh," she nods and opens her mouth.

"Good girl," he says in the most soothing voice he can muster. He brushes her hair out from her face. "Gargle." She follows his order before leaning to her side to spit it in the sink. "Good girl," he repeats. "Can you do something else for me?" She nods. He digs around in his pocket until he finds what he's looking for. She watches him put a little bit of the white powder on the back of his hand. "Here," he holds it out to her.

She feels a little more awake as soon as she takes the hit. He offers her a bit more before she feels she's at an okay place. "You with me again?" He asks and she nods. "What's in this?" Roman picks up the cup and sniffs it.

"I don't know." He drinks it anyway. When he's done she can see in his face how strong it was

"Coconut rum," he looks down the cup again before downing it.

"Good to know," she slurs.

"I was serious earlier," he puts his hands on her thighs.

"I know." She raises her eyebrows waiting on him. It doesn't take much waiting.

She lets him move her how he wants, and he wants her bent over the counter with his hands moving up her skirt. She tries to push herself up to kiss him but slaps her ass so hard the sound cuts through the muffled noises from the party below. Normally, Emma would be pissed if anyone even so much as mentioned smacking her ass, but at this moment she lets out a small giggle.

"I just want you to know," he leans down placing his right cheek on her left. He looks at her through the mirror. "I would never," he speaks slowly building up her anxiety, "give you shitty coke." She just laughs at him. "You coulda been my coke whore."

"I know," she says, eyes following as he stands up straight. It's strange to hear him speak about something that happened before the last time they were in this bathroom together.

His free hand is grazing its way up her skirt again when a loud round of knocks hits the door. Roman scrunches his face in annoyance but tries to ignore the sound. It doesn't go away."What?" He shouts to the person on the other side of the door.

"I need to pee!" A girl yells.

"Fuck off! Find somewhere else!"

"I have to pee!" She yells again and continues knocking. Roman yanks the door open. The girl stands her ground and he gives in.

"Fuck! Fine," he huffs. He grabs Emma by the wrist and pulls her into the next room he can find. Funny enough, it's the same bedroom where he'd taken Gia. He wastes no time, pushing her backward until they both fall onto the bed. He pulls her shirt off over her head, almost ripping it in the process.

"A bra this time?" He plays with the strap. "Disappointing."

"And you're talking more this time," she mocks him. "Disappointing."

"It's barely a bra," he moves down her neck, placing kisses wherever he goes. "I can still see your nipples." He slips the straps off her shoulders once he's made it below her collar bone. She looks down at him and he stares back up at her. He pushes the material just out of the way so he can latch on to one of her nipples. She lets out a small cry, throwing her head back on the pillow.

"You wanted to get fucked tonight, didn't you?" He asks. "That's why you wore this. Take it off." She nods slowly, more to herself than him, and props herself up on her elbows. He reaches behind her and unhooks the bra with one hand while the other lingers on her hip. Emma slides it the rest of the way of her arms.

"Are you as drunk as I am?" She asks.

"Would you like me to be?"

Roman bites his bottom lip and watches her carefully as she places the flimsy piece of material on beside them on the bed. He attacks her breasts, sucking at, and grabbing at anything he can. She runs her hands through his hair before pulling him up by it to kiss her. They linger there for a moment, his hand snaking its way up her skirt again.

"Yes," she nods.

"I'll be right back," he grins at her and gives her a peck. She lays there, half-naked on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. Is it spinning or is it just her? She doesn't have to think too much, Roman rushes back in. "Here," he hands her a bottle of something and sits on the bed. "Pour until you think I'm with you."

Emma crawls to him and sits on her knees. Roman opens his mouth for the bottle. She holds it as he gulps down until he has to push her away. "Jesus fucking Christ," he coughs. "Shit." Emma leans over to kiss the spilled liquor off of his face. He roughly pulls her into his lap and into an even rougher kiss.

She lets go of his hair to try to unbutton his shirt. Roman, apparently, thinks she's not going fast enough and does it himself. When he dives back in she allows her hands to linger along his chest. His hands travel down, unzipping her skirt and watching as she kicks it down to the floor below the bed.

Emma fumbles with the buttons of his jeans for a few seconds before he just does it himself. Somehow he's more graceful at everything he does than her. His pants meet her skirt somewhere in the mess. He grabs the back of her head and pulls her in for another kiss. Making his way down her neck, he's sure he left a hickey or two behind. She pulls him back up to her, though, and he bites her lip gently as she plunges a hand into his boxer.

She strokes him gently, mouth opened and forehead pressed against hers. Roman had forgotten how good it felt to be touched. He could cum just from this, but he can't let that happen. He pulls her hand up and holds it down to the bed.

"Are you trying to make me beg?" She shrugs, smiling coyly. "Because you really should know by now that I don't do that." With that, he pushes her back to the bed and makes his way down to his panties. "Quite the opposite actually." With one swift movement, her underwear is thrown to the floor, exposing her to the cold air. She shivers a bit at the excitement and the freedom, but it's all gone once she feels his hand grazing over her.

"Say please," he tells her. "You said it so sweetly last time."

"Please," she breathes out. She anticipates more contact but is stunned when he begins making his way down the bed. It takes her a moment to put the words together, but when she does he's already placing light kisses on her thighs. "No," she shakes her head. "No."

"You sure?" He lays his head down on her thigh. She nods. "Do you really don't want me to or are you embarrassed?"

"Embarrassed of what?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I feel like girls are always weird about getting their pussy eaten." She doesn't make any movements. "Like you guys always embarrassed there's something wrong about you. I don't think about that when I'm getting my dick sucked." She burst out laughing at that.

"Jesus Christ."

"What? I'm a fucking feminist," he holds her hips tightly. "Now, let me eat your pussy."

"Wouldn't have pinned you as a giver," she says pulling his head back up. "No."

"Do you not like it?"

"Huh?" She's thrown off by the question.

"Do you not like it when guys go down on you?" She shakes her head no as confidently as possible. "What do they do instead?" He asks. She runs through her brain trying to think of something. She doesn't realize how long she'd been silent until he says "Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. Roman's an asshole, sure, but he knows when someone is embarrassed. And sometimes when people are embarrassed you don't push things. She was right, he wasn't a giver, but he also wasn't selfish in bed. For a second in time, he feels sympathetic towards her. She'd fucked all these guys, and not a single one of them gave anything back.

Of course, that wasn't the whole truth. Roman, along with the rest of their school, only knew who she had been with, and what those guys said they had done. In truth, she had only blown them. The most undressed she had gotten was her shirt off.

Roman's kinder side gets the best of him as he watches her look around the room uncomfortable. He puts his hands on her knees and strokes them with his thumb. "Let me try, and if you don't like it we can stop." She doesn't move at first, just stares back at him, face red. Then, she nods slowly, seeing some sort of trust in his eyes. She trusts him right now. He moves back down and she flinches away. "Hey, hey," she looks down at him, "relax."

The way she was reacting to him was nice, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. So he stays there, between her legs, building her up until he's sure she's close. He moves upwards, kissing her neck despite her whine from losing the contact. He makes it up to her face, kissing her as he reaches down to align himself. "Condom," he stops the kiss and moves to grab his pants. She doesn't let him go, though, and actually pulls him in closer.

"Don't care." That drives him fucking wild and he slams into her, causing her to jump a bit. Once he gets over the initial excitement of going in bare, he slows down again and reaches between them, other hand holding the back of her head. Emma isn't a short girl, she's a bit above average, so Roman's height wasn't as shocking to her as it was to others. However, right now below him, she feels pathetically small and delicate.

That feeling plus the small circular motions he's making with his thumb pushes her too far. When he dips down to suck at her breast she knows she's done for. She's so quiet Roman has to do a double-take. Her face is flustered and she looks like she could cry. It's not until he feels her clench around him that he's sure of what he's seeing. Watching her fall apart sets off something new in him.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asks panting, speech slurred.

"Huh?" She's way to preoccupied with coming down from her own high to focus on his.

"I'm gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum?" He has to stop and take a deep breath to hold back.

"Oh," she picks her head up and looks around. She can tell he's struggling to keep it together."Um," she thinks, "wherever."

"Can I cum in you?"

"Okay," she lays her head back down.

"Are on something?" He asks, thrusting slowly again.

"Okay," she nods and pulls him into a kiss. She's tired and overstimulated and wants him to hurry up. "Fuck me." Emma's running a marathon through her brain trying to remember what all the porn women say. He hears her mumbling out vulgarities that don't quite make sense, but he's unsure if they don't actually make sense of if he's just is too drunk to understand them. He does hear one very specific thing come out of her mouth clear as day. "Cum in my pussy."

He's done for.

They lay there catching their breaths. He's sprawled across her and their skin stuck together.

When they make their way back downstairs, it's clear to them that the party has hit its highest point. It's the kind of party you only see in movies, the kind that cops would be called to if they didn't pity the teens so much. Roman looks back at her and smiles as he pulls her by her hand closer to the center of it all.

There's so much happening, and they're both drunk and still riding on the fuck-high. All she can do is smile back and let him drag her in further. Neither had ever seen the other in a situation like this. They always showed up to make an appearance at a party, now here they are fully jumping into the world around them.

Someone hands him a bottle of rum, pats his shoulder, and tells him "happy new year." She keeps taking swigs from the bottle, hoping that if she can get just a little drunker- a little looser- she'll have a good time. A better time.

Because no matter how lost she can get in the moment, the feeling of hurt still lingers in the back of her mind when she looks at him.

Emma has been drunk before, many, many, _many_  times before. Somehow she's made it to the tip of the mountain tonight. She's at that drunk stage where if you close your eyes and think you can feel sober for about 5 seconds, then the world is upside down again. All she can do to battle the feeling is cling tighter to Roman as they drunkenly sway to the music.

Roman feels the girl wrap her arms around his neck. He takes a couple long drinks from the bottle before she takes it back from him. He knows she's teetering very close to the edge of too far, but he doesn't super-duper care. All in all, he just wants to bring her home with him and fuck her senseless. If this is the one person his body will let him fuck he's going to go for it.

He knows he would never do that, of course.

But it's also not his responsibility to take care of the girl. If this is how she wants to spend the night than so be it. Hell- he'll try and stay on her level. At his height, though, it would take a gallon of Everclear to keep him caught up. But he can still try.

They both stand there making out, feeling so out of character, as the crowd counts down. Despite the excitement and loud cheers of the clock striking midnight, some people's attention is still completely drawn to the two teens. Someone in the crowd, or possibly multiple someones, catches the moment on snapchat. Once the moment's over and they notice the eyes around them, Roman takes (basically drags) a stumbling Emma outside.

She tries to take the bottle from his hands but he holds it up above his hands. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," he teases her as she makes a small jump to grab it. "It's all mine," he opens it and finishes the bottle. There wasn't that much left, but enough for him to regret drinking it all at once.

"Mean," she crosses her arms.

"If you want to see mean, come home with me and I'll show you just how mean I can be," he smirks and grabs her hips. Her cheeks are on fire from the comment in complete contrast to the cold wind. She smiles and shakes her head. "C'mon," he says cupping her cheek with his hand. She shakes her head again.

"Mom-" she starts but realizes it's not worth the wait.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," he tells her, leaving her in the snow-covered porch.

"If you wanted to fuck him yourself you could have just said so," the voice catches in Emma's ear and she makes a 180.

"Huh?" She asks, slowly moving in closer to the girl from earlier. Emma's eyeliner is smudged from sweat.

"I said," the girl moves in. "If you wanted to fuck him yourself you could have just said so. I get it, but you didn't have to be such a cunt about it."

"You really should go back inside," Emma says, "because if I have to look at you for another fucking minute you will start the new year off without teeth. Would you like that?" The girl and her friends chuckle, but they do shuffle away.

After a while Emma assumes that Roman getting a drink was a permanent move, not an "I'll be right back" like she had thought. Emma stands there until she's too cold to handle it and move to make her way back inside. She grabs a bottle of vodka on her way out and drinks straight, hoping to fully evolve into a blackout drunk teen.

Every step on the snow makes a crunching sound that annoyed the absolute shit out of her and she wants to scream into the void about her misery. She can't finish the bottle and throws it into a strangers yard, it shatters loudly on their driveway pavement. She giggles at the sound and continues walking. She's surprised that after all these nights she hasn't been stopped by a cop. They don't normally circle around this part of town, but anybody watching her stumble could tell she was drunk.

She makes her way along the sidewalk in front of the park. Something moving catches the corner of her eye. She turns but nothing's there now. Emma takes a deep breath and continues walking a few steps until something rustles behind her again.

"Oh my god," she breathes out. "Look at you," she bends down to scoop the perpetrator into her arms. It's a little black and white kitten, the smallest kitten she has ever seen. It scratches and wiggles in her arms, but accepts the warmth provided by her body. "Hi," she smiles and strokes her thumb over its head. It falls asleep in her arms.

By the time she's in front of her house, she can't remember making the journey. She fumbles with her keys and finally gets the door unlocked. Like the rest of the night, history once again repeats itself. She goes up to her room and sets the kitten down. It sniffs around her room as she takes off her shoes and clothes and digs out a sleeping pill.

Stripped down to her underwear, she flops back onto her bed, legs hanging off. Her head spins and she closes her eyes. She had forgotten what her mattress felt like, what her comforter smelt like. She had forgotten how good it felt to lay back and relax on something other than her old carpeted floor. She doesn't fully realize where she is until she's reaching to climb under the sheets. There's a harrowing flip in her stomach and she lets them go.

She stays frozen for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. Every marking or scratch made into the white paint is planted in her mind, perfectly patterned out. If she lets her mind wander enough, she can remember the feeling of leather-wrapped tightly around her wrists. She rushes to sit up and run to the other side of the room, but there's a tiny little scratch coming from the comforter. The tiny kitten has clawed its way up to her.

The small fur ball slowly makes it's way closer and closer to her until it rams its head on her nose.

Emma can't sleep, but the kitten has fallen asleep curled up on her chest. She mindlessly rubs her thumb over its head. She stays there, half-way on and half-way off her bed, looking up at her ceiling. They say insanity is doing the same things over and over but expecting different outcomes. Of course, Emma knows that that's not what insanity is, but she can't help but wonder what outcome she was expecting. Whatever it was, it wasn't this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't drink wine, but I did have like 5 mimosas lmao. Anyways, here's to being a shit smut writer! Hope you all enjoyed my pg-13 sex scene!
> 
> Also, I do want to say that I don't condone this behavior. Emma and Roman are equally drunk, but it's still a really grey area of consent and please always be safe.


	18. Undrunk

Emma wakes up the next morning cold, with a pounding headache, a burning in her throat, and a kitten asleep on her. To some extend, she accomplished her goal of blacking out. The kitten does a small stretch before hopping off her chest. At some point in the night, Emma had made her way into a ball on the center of her bed.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she lets out a small noise that borders between a groan and a sob. Her head hurts so fucking bad. She makes her way to the bathroom, hissing at the freezing tile below her feet and squinting until she splashes her face with cold water. She needs to shower, and it takes some pep-talking, but she finally turns the water on. She looks at herself in the mirror as the water heats up.

Her neck and collarbones are littered with bite marks and hickeys. She puts her face in her hands and lets out a small scream of self-hatred. The removal of her bra only warrants more bit back yells of anger. The grand finale, however, is when she removes her underwear to suddenly remember truly the most shameful part of the night.

"You dumb fucking whore," she shakes her head at herself then steps into the water. She scrubs every square inch of her body a minimum of three times and stays under the spraying water until her head hurts too bad to stand.

She throws on sweats and a high neck hoody to take baby steps to the kitchen for a cup of water. She hears the front door screech open and her heart stops. There's no way of covering up how clearly hungover she is. Her mind races with the sound of Kay's footsteps moving towards the kitchen. "Oh my God," Kay says and Emma clinches ready for hell to fall down on her. "I'm so glad to see you," the older woman wraps her arms around her daughter. Emma is stunned for a moment before returning the gesture.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Kay lets her go finally. "They found another girl, not too far from here. They brought her in this morning and it scared the hell out of me. I'm always worried it's going to be you."

"Where did they find her?"

"At the creek bed down behind the park. The thing dragged her all the way from the street." Emma's breath catches in her throat as her mom keeps talking. It really could have been her this time.

"Who- Uh, who was it?" She tries to stay calm and relaxed. 

"A Jane Doe. No ID found," her mom sighs and steps back. She slowly does a one over on her daughter but chooses to ignore it. She's just glad she's safe. "No one at the hospital recognized her so it's possible she's from out of town."

"I'm sure we'll find out today." Their conversation is interrupted by a small thump sound coming down the stairs. Kay turns to see the small kitten struggling down each step, falling every time.

"Emma," she sighs, annoyed.

"It was out in the cold," she shrugs. "Look how cute it is." Kay agrees that it's cute, but there's no way they can keep it. "I'll take care of it," Emma promises. She rushes over to pick it up to show her mom. How could anyone say no to that tiny spotted face? Kay finally raises a hand to pet it.

"You can't take it to college with you."

"I know, but remember, we talked about getting you a cat! This one just came to us." Kay closes her eyes and lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"Okay," she indulges her daughter. How could she say no when this is the happiest she'd seen her in a while? "But you're taking care of it." Emma agrees and starts thinking of names.

Despite the excitement, it's still the early hours of the morning after a long night. She cradles the kitten and locks her bedroom door behind her. She cuddles into the blankets, this time on her floor and closes her eyes. She can still the sound of her mother downstairs shuffling around and the birds chirping in the first daylight of the new year.

She sleeps and lounges until the next morning. The tiny kitten has no qualms with a lazy day. When she wakes, she feels frail and ill, but Emma manages to spend her day cleaning the parts of the house that had been neglected since summer. Under the fridge? Swept. Inside the fridge? Cleared of expired food. The area behind the couch? Vacuumed. A perfectly spotless house.

She's taking a break and relaxing on the couch when she hears a knock at the door. Emma cracks it open and is disappointed, but not surprised, to find Peter on the other side. "Hi?"

"Hey, we gotta talk," he says gently.

"About?"

"You know what it's about."

"I told you I don't want to be involved anymore," she crosses her arms and leans on the door. "You and Roman can go play superhero by yourselves. I'm not tagging along."

"Can't you swallow your pride for a moment and deal with him?"

"No," she shrugs and tries to close the door. He catches it. "Peter, I told you I won't do it, I can't be around him."

"Things are _fine_ between you and Roman- from what I've heard anyway."

"Oh, fuck off," she rolls her eyes.

"Whatever weird fight you guys have going on, I don't care, but I need you to to help us." Peter spits out. "I need you to put it aside for now, just for now." Emily opens her mouth, almost ready to hit him with the truth but he stops her before she starts. "When it's over, when the vargulf is dead, you guys can go on hating each other. But for now, this is important. Please, for me."

"No," she says softly and shakes her head and tries once more to shut the door.

"Do you want to die?" He catches the door with his foot. "Because that's what's going to happen if you do nothing."

"Are you threatening me?" She quirks her head, unsure of what he's trying to say.

"No, I'm telling you what's going to happen," he tries to calm himself down from the anger he's feeling. "Destiny saw it, you're going to die if we don't do something. It's going to kill you."

"Okay, _sure_ ," she says, clearly not believing him.

"You don't know the things Destiny can do, can see," he tells her with a straight face. "She's always right." Emma thinks back to that night she spent with her in her living room. The things she had said, unclear but always hinting at the truth. Even in the face of all of her studying and belief in science she can't deny the feeling Destiny gave her. That she knew too much.

"You're not fucking with me?"

"I swear. I swear on my life."

"What do you need from me?"

 

Emma goes with Peter to his cousins. She agrees only on the terms that Roman will only be around when absolutely necessary. Peter can live with that. They sit at her dining room table, sharing only small glances as Destiny messes around with some tarot cards. She stops and puts them back in their case. "What'd you see?" Peter asks her.

"Oh," she looks at him. "That wasn't for this, it was for something else."

"Well?" Peter motions her forward. She looks at Emma.

"What the boys need is a tracker."

"A tracker?" Emma asks.

"Yeah, like someone who can find the vargulf."

"Why can't Peter?" She asks. "He's the one with special abilities and what not, and you have something. Like you said, I'm not special."

"You're right," Destiny agrees with her. "You're not special, you don't have powers, you're not a werewolf, but that's not what matters. What matters is that you have a future where this thing is drawn to you. So, maybe you can be drawn to it."

"Wouldn't I have already found him by now? If that were the case?"

"Have you been trying?" Destiny asks and Emma shakes her head. "Exactly."

"You want me to be bait, don't you?" Destiny doesn't answer right away and Emma stands. "Look, whatever vision you had... I'm not going out and waiting to be attacked."

"You have to do something," Peter stands to grab her.

"I'm not saying be bait!" Destiny shouts over the commotion. "I'm saying you focus your energy on finding it. You have the closest connection to it," she shrugs. "That's all this is, what I do, it's just focusing your energy on something. And you have a lot of energy!"

"What happened to "your connections not to the vargulf, it's to Roman"? Was that a lie?"

"Not completely!" Destiny defends herself.

"Than what is it?" Emma looks wild.

"It's hard to explain!" Destiny shouts back at her.

"You keep saying that but I want an explanation." Emma paces around pulling at her hair. Peter can see the stress rising in her shoulders and he moves to comforter her. Destiny shoots him a glance and he thinks better of it.

"You are a complicated piece in this puzzle, and it's better that you don't know everything." Emma tries to laugh, but it's broken by a long cough. "If you only want to be involved in what you have to be in let's keep it that way, sound good?"

"Fine," she mumbles and returns to her seat. "What do I do?"

"I'm going to make you drink some gross shit and hope it clears your mind," she explains. "Simple as that."

"Okay," Emma nods reluctantly. The more pragmatic side of her brain is in denial, but she knows there's more to the universe than the human brain can comprehend. Destiny stands from her chair.

"I'll get started," she claps her hands together. Emma and Peter watch Destiny leave towards her spare room. "Come along," she waves to them. They follow her into the room. Emma looks around at the weird plants and paintings that line the wall. There are two bookshelves that are out of room, and a table covered in what she can only imagine is tools for making potions.

Destiny moves quickly around the room, a dash of this, a little of that, two drops of something. She grinds up some stuff and stirs it all together before putting in a vial. Emma watches her with great interest. "Is this... something that interests you?" Destiny asks her.

"Oh," Emma isn't sure. "Um- it's something for sure."

"Drink this before you go to bed," Destiny hands the vial to her. "Be sure you're ready to sleep."

"Okay," Emma puts it in her pocket. "How will I know what to do?"

"You'll know," she laughs and pats her shoulder. Cryptic as ever.

"How do you know this? About me?" She asks slowly. "What else do you know?"

"I did something like this to find out," she gestures at the table.

"What else do you know?" Destiny sighs but doesn't reply. "What?"

"I know two other things, about the future," she crosses her arms. "But this is the only one that matters right now."

"I want to know the rest. What else is there?"

"You should never know your own future," Destiny tells her. "More than you have to know, anyway." Emma nods, understanding that Destiny is right. But she still wants to know.

She says goodbye to the Rumancek cousins and walks back to her house, playing with the vial in her coat pocket. She pulls the hood strings in tight, it's going to be a cold evening. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten until she comes in and hears her mom packing up for work. "Have a good day?" Kay asks from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I went to visit Peter," she takes off her coat and hangs it up, kicking her snow boots to the side. "You remember Peter, right?" She goes to the kitchen and leans against the wall.

"Yes, a little," her mom nods, throwing on her bag. "I'll be back in the morning. Lock up."

"Always," Emma follows behind and helps Kay into her coat. She locks the door and the bolt. She takes the vial up to her room and sets it on her desk. She's tempted to open and smell it, but she's sure she'll regret it if she does.

Instead, she leaves it sitting there until she's convinced it's late enough to go to sleep. Destiny didn't explain if this would put her to sleep or not. After a few moments of anxiety to uncaps it and shoots it back whole. It's grainy and tastes like concrete mixed with coffee grounds and piss.

It takes all her self-power to not spit it back up. Once it's down she stays standing, unsure of how long to wait. She feels a little sleepy and decides to lay down, but doesn't make it more than two steps before falling to the ground.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!!
> 
> Sorry this chapters a lil short, the few are a lil longer, but this one was pretty straight to the point.
> 
> Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for reading! It means so so so much to me when I wake up to notifications from votes and comments. I'm not one of those writers that's obsessed with it, but just know that when you guys interact with me or vote it really makes my day!


	19. Pork Soda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Pork Soda by glass animals. I don't normally post what the titles are from but I thought this one was weird and needed clarification lol

Emma sits in the dark room, only moonlight showing through the small windows. Her head leans back against the padding. The only noise in the room is the sound of her breathing followed by Romans. His breath seems to mimic every one of hers, mocking the hitch of panic she can't seem to clear. For the first time, Emma is fully aware that she is dreaming.

With full autonomy, she takes a moment to look around beyond the bounds she had recently been constricted to. The room is as she remembered it, dark and eery. Upon further investigation, she finds that it's not actually empty. There's a thin cardboard box, the kind you ship things in, in the corner. It's still taped up.

Emma wants to stand to open it, but she's too scared to disturb the silence. She looks at Roman is still sitting across from her, he looks sadder than she remembers, knees drawn to his chest. Emma opens her mouth to see if she can speak but only a small croak comes out. Roman stands and the world shakes like it's encased in gelatin.

"Where are you?" He asks, coming closer. She's stunned, she can't remember him speaking in her other dreams.

"I don't know," her voice says without her mind approving it.

"No, if you open your eyes, where would you be?"

"In my room." He's right in front of her now, looking massive.

"Open your eyes."

"I can't," she looks up and shakes her head. He kneels down.

"Open your eyes."

"I can't!"

"Shut up!" He's shouting in her face now and she turns away. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He keeps shouting and shouting until his voice is no longer his own. She looks back and him, the voice yells but Roman's mouth doesn't move.

She blinks and is in her bedroom again. Emma struggles but can't move, paralyzed under the weight of the blankets. _Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep._ She closes her eyes but immediately reopens them. She sees it. There's something in the corner of her room. It moves too quickly for her to see. There's a low growl. _It's a dream. Go back to sleep._

It's daylight, blinding and hot. It's summer again. Laying in the grass, she can't see herself, but somehow she knows she's young- a child again. She looks down at her outfit, she remembers it. _I'm 9_ she thinks. _I'm 9_. A pair of small hands clap in front of her face.

"Earth to Emma!" She recognizes Roman's pre-pubescent voice and can't help but laugh, it's so much higher than she remembers. She puts her hand in front of her eyes to block the sun. Roman bends over to look at her. His hair is blonder and one tooth is only half grown in. "Come on, we've only got a few hours before it gets dark out."

"My mom doesn't want us going that far." She doesn't know how she knows this, but she does.

"Good thing you're mom's not here," he mocks her. "Come on, don't be a baby. Are you always going to do what your mom says?"

"Yes," she says proudly. The words move on their own.

"Well, my mom doesn't care and your mom left you with us. So..."

"Fine," she sits up. Roman holds out a hand and helps her up. She'd forgotten how short he used to be, at least two inches shorter than her. "Let's go," she says, grabbing her backpack. Her legs move on their own towards the garage where their bikes are. Neither wear a helmet as they take off down the long driveway.

She remembers this, it must have happened. It feels too real to just be a dream. Roman's short legs struggle to keep up with her as they fly through the curvy roads. They take a sharp turn off onto a dirt path through the woods. He catches up with her. They ride their bikes all the way up to the rusted fence before climbing it.

"Why do you like coming here so much?" Emma kicks a rock at the dark old building.

"It reminds me of my dad." Roman maneuvers his way through the slightly ajar door and into the old steel mill. In just a matter of years, the door will be kicked in my older teens, and red solo cups will litter the floor.

Emma doesn't understand why such a dirty and gross old building would remind Roman of his dad, but she let him have it. She follows him in and looks around. She digs into her backpack for her flashlight, turning it on. "Do you think it's haunted?"

"Oh yeah," Roman grins. "Conway told me his brother knew a guy who fell into a pit of lava."

"Lava is in volcanoes stupid," she snickers at him.

"Okay, well whatever, nerd. He fell into something and died."

"I don't like it, can we go?"

"Aw, are you scared?" He turns the teasing around. "You're such a girl!"

"Am not!" She flashes her light at him. "I'm not scared, it's just..." She turns back around, the light shines on something that catches her eye.

"Just what?" He asks. "Girls are always scared of stuff." Emma ignores his comment and moves toward the wall. The conscious part of her mind recognizes the shape. It's the same one Peter and Roman were always drawing on things, the snake eating itself, the ouroboros. She traces it with her finger and looks closer. Something is written along the curve of the snake.

_where all things are made right_  
_where there is salvation for all_  
_where there is unity_  
_where there is Trinity_  
_where there is real truth_  
_where there is divine virtue_

 

"You did this," she hears Roman approaching behind her. "It's your fault." She turns to see Roman, but older, older than he is in real life. Only by a few years.

"What?" As he comes closer she realizes she's older too.

"Let's go," he waves her along and she doesn't have any choice but to follow. They walk and walk through the field behind the mill but they don't seem to get anywhere, never moving forward.

Until they do.

They approach the pool behind the mansion, it comes from nowhere. She walks until they next to each other looking over the water. Feeling bold, she looks up to him. He looks back down at her before grabbing her wrist and dragging her to the bottom of the pool with him. She fights him but he's much stronger than she is. Looking up for some last glimpse of light, she sees a figure looking down at them from outside the pool.

She closes her eyes and allows the water to fill her lungs.

Coughing up water, she's on the floor of a bathroom she doesn't know. No- not water, it's clear stomach bile. She doesn't stop until her throat is tender and dry. She stands and goes to the sink for water. Looking at herself, she looks tired and sad. Her hair is longer and darker.

She doesn't know where she is, but somehow she does. She moves from the bathroom to the hallway and a bedroom. She's looking for something but she can't find it. She digs through drawers of plain white tee shirts and socks, but nothing. She digs and digs until she's at the bottom of the drawer. Then, she claws at the wood until her fingers are bleeding.

"Oh dear," a voice calls out. She's heard it before but can't quite place it. "We need to get this cleaned up." She's pulled to the door. Instead of the hallway, on the other side is a bright white hospital.

She follows a scrubbed man into an operating room where nurses and other doctors block her view of the table. Emma stands on her toes but still can't see a single thing. One of the doctors turns to her and warns, "You don't want to see."

"Yes I do," she tells him. "Let me see." A nurse turns around to come grab, opening up a small sliver for her view. She can only see what appears to be a pile of discarded flesh and some sort of movement below it. "What is it?" She asks the nurse that has grabbed her arms. "What is it?"

"It's not for you," the nurse tells her, pulling her out of the room.

"What is it?" She cries this time. "What is it?"

"It's," the nurse pulls at her arm roughly, "not for you, Miss."

The nurse keeps a tight hold on her and pulls her through the hospital hallways, Peter sits on a bench and doesn't look up when she calls for him. "It's not for you," the nurse repeats. She pulls her into another room, turning the lights on.

"Who is it for?" She asks the nurse, allowing her to undo her hospital gown. The nurse says something too quiet for her to hear. "Please."

She jerks up, covered in sweat, hair sticking to her forward. She glances around the dark room before rushing to the bathroom to vomit the entire contents of her stomach. Possibly even some of her stomach lining. "Fuck," she groans. "What the fuck." Another wave of nausea hits her.

Emma sits, back to the cold tile wall of her bathroom. Something's not right. Even awake, somethings not right. Everything is moving, everything is breathing. She swallows tears. It's just a dream. You're asleep.

She crawls forward, throwing up one last time until she can only gag up air and tears. She can hear a commotion coming from her bedroom on the other side of the door. She's petrified that someone's broken in. All she can think is that there's a murderer on the other side of the door.

Building up the courage, she stands quietly and peaks out the door. It's just herself sitting on the bed. No one else is there. She meets her own eyes once the door is open all the way. They're vacant. "You must be freezing," she says from the bed. Emma nods and comes out. It's so cold in the house.

"Are you okay? You look upset," she says as she approaches her on the bed. Emma doesn't know what to say to herself. "Is it about earlier? I'm not really mad. Just frustrated." She stands still. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Emma feels like she's intruding on something. "What's going on?"

Emma wants to answer, to tell herself she's dreaming and to go back to sleep. That the girl on the bed isn't real. But maybe she is the real Emma. It's too much.

"Stop," Emma tells herself, but she won't listen. "Stop it."

"Stop it. Roman, stop, you're hurting me. You're being an asshole," the girl on the bed says in a monotone voice to no one.

"Stop it!" Emma approaches herself and yells. "Stop it!" Emma on the finally seems to see her.

"No," she giggles. "No."

  
Emma shoots up from her spot on the bathroom floor and vomits once more. "Please stop," she begs her mind. "Please stop, I'm awake" she repeats until she falls back down into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	20. Haunted

"What the fucking fuck?" Emma shouts as soon as the doors open.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," Destiny lets her in.

"No, what the fuck?" Emma is in such a frenzy it takes her a moment to notice she's not alone. "What was in that?" She whispers trying to backtrack her energy.

"Just some herbs, plants, and stuff," she replies, shrugging.

"Herbs? Plants? Stuff?"

"Just a little bit of salvia and some Ambien," Emma's jaw drops.

"You can't just give someone salvia. Or Ambien. Much less both at the same time!" She's getting tenser by the moment. "Plus, I already take Ambien! What if I had overdosed?"

"Well, you didn't. What's done is done," Destiny tries to soothe her. "Have a cup of tea. We'll talk." Emma nods and sits. She tries to breathe but she's fucking furious. She's not drinking the tea, though. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...

Emma sits on the other side of the table, as far away from Roman as physically possible. She gives Peter a nod instead of a hello and crosses her arms. Roman sits still, looking at her with as if she were a rotting corpse. Destiny returns with a teacup and places it in front of her. Roman still stares. She takes a deep breath for courage and looks up at him. "What?" She spits at him. He shrugs but doesn't look away.

"Okay, okay," Destiny tries to tame them, "children. We've got more important matters at hand."

"What happened?" Peter asks.

"Your cousin drugged me?" Emma says to him, enraged. "Look, I had some weird dreams, but that's pretty normal right now, so I don't know what to tell you."

"The same ones?" Destiny asks and Emma nods. "Nothing else? Nothing new?"

"I was at the steel mill at one point," she tells her, unsure of how much to reveal. "That's it. That was the only thing that was different."

"Was anyone with you?" Emma thinks for a moment.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Peter asks.

"Yes," she nods. "Just me."

"Did you see anything else?" He asks her.

"Just the weird snake thing."

"Alright," Destiny smiles to the table. "We've got our workout cut out for us."

"You actually think that this dream is reliable?" Emma asks, looking between the cousins. "It was _salvia_."

"It's the best we've got," Peter pats her shoulder and stands. "So the next full moon is next Thursday. That gives us some time to think through an attack plan. We should drive out there and you can show us where the ouroboros was in your dream. There might be something there."

"Okay," she says quietly.

"Then next Thursday, the three of us will kill this thing," Roman finishes for Peter.

"Hopefully," Peter adds.

"No?" Emma quirks her head to him. "I'm not coming."

"We need you there-" Peter starts.

"You tell me this thing wants to kill me then you ask me to go to it? I don't think so."

"Are you going to waste our fucking time, or go?" Roman asks, clearly annoyed with her.

"I guess I'm going to waste your fucking time," she replies back coldly then stands. She haphazardly throws on her coat and slams the door on her way out. The audacity of them to ask her to step into the belly of the beast boils her blood. She could expect it from Roman, but she thought better of Peter.

"Emma!" She hears Peter call followed by the crunching of snow below his feet. "Em!" He runs to catch up with her.

"I don't want to hear it, Peter."

"Em, please," he reaches forward and grabs her by her shoulder. The forcible and unwelcome touch puts her defense mode. She jerks around and smacks him. Peter barely flinches, but Emma feels terrible. She doesn't let it show, and she knows she shouldn't feel bad- people shouldn't just grab you. But still, it wasn't that big of a deal. It didn't warrant a reaction.

"Don't," she shakes her head and tries to stay as composed as possible. "Don't make up some dumb fucking excuse to get me back in there," she comes closer to his face. Behind him, she can see that Roman and Destiny have stepped outside of the apartment to watch the altercation unfold. "I told you I didn't want to be around him. You said- no you promised-"

"I know but-"

"Let me finish," she demands. "I told you that and you lied. I've been lied to, I've been offered up as bait, and I've been drugged. So I'm going home now. If that thing kills me I can promise you it won't be anywhere near you or him. If that's even the truth."

"You're right," Peter concedes. "I lied to you, I'm sorry. I didn't think it was that serious." Peter doesn't genuinely believe he lied to her, maybe was a bit misleading, but not lie. Right now though, there are more important things at stake than his pride. "I won't ask you to come next week, but please show me where you saw the ouroboros. Just me, no Roman." Emma thinks it over for a minute before nodding hesitantly.

They take Destiny's car out to the steel mill and park as close to the fence as possible. The place she had seen in her dream is now in utter decay. While they were in the habit of going to most parties, Roman would never come to ones here. They did go out there occasionally, but after seeing it at it's state nearly a decade ago, it's shocking. It's like how you don't realize you're growing taller.

Peter helps her hop over the fence and navigates there way through all the icy patches. Once inside she walks him over to the wall from her dream. There's nothing there now but cracks and small pieces of graffiti. "This is it," she shrugs.

"Oh," he says, hand dragging along the wall. "I was hoping for something more. I guess that was dumb, huh?" She nods in agreement. "Look, are you sure this is all you saw?" Emma opens her mouth but he pauses. "Because whatever happened can stay between us. I just feel like you're holding back."

"There was some sort of poem or verse, but I can't quite remember it," she traces where the symbol was in her dream. "And I knew I was dreaming, even in my nightmare. I knew I was awake, but I still couldn't do anything about it."

Peter reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. She's surprised at herself for letting him. "And in the room," she contemplates finishing it or not, but Peter gives her that look and she has to tell him. "Roman knew I was asleep too. And he- or whatever he is in the dream- just kept yelling at me to wake up."

"Sounds scary."

"Yeah," she says slowly. He's being too sympathetic and it's confusing her.

He drops her off at home before heading back to Destiny's. When he comes in, both she and Roman are more excited than they should be. He figures the tension between to two of them must've been high while they waited. Upon further inspection, he finds that the two of them also got high while they waited.

"How was it, loverboy?" Roman asks him.

"Okay, first: I'm dating your cousin," Roman shrugs at that. "Second: fuck off."

"I'd rather you be with her," Roman digs into his pocket for a cigarette, "and leave Letha alone." Peter rolls his eyes.

"Find anything?" Destiny tries to change the subject.

"Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just like last time I was there, but colder." Destiny nods as he speaks.

"Alright, let's go," Roman stands. "I'm hungry."

The boys say their goodbyes to Destiny and get in the Jag. Roman drives them to the diner around the block. "Did she say anything else?" Roman asks, glazed eyes grazing over the menu.

"I mean, we didn't sit in silence if that's what you mean."

"No, about the whole," he motions widely with his hands, "situation."

"No, nothing, but uh- we're gonna go out next week, just the two of us, and we'll see if we can find anything."

"You didn't get her to say she'll come?"

"No, I told her it was her choice." They both look up as the waitress approaches. She only has eyes for Roman and he knows it.

"Hi," he winks at her.

"What can I get for you?"

"I'll get a cheeseburger and fries. Oh, and a strawberry shake," he hands her the menu. "Oh, oh, and a patty melt."

"You're sure hungry, aren't you?" She giggles and blushes.

"I'll just have a coffee," Peter says interrupting their moment. The waitress nods and leaves, glaring at Peter.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Roman asks, turning back to his friend.

"I mean we'll go and hopefully she's right."

"But it's not going to show up if she's not there," Roman points out.

"We don't know that-

"But we think that." Peter sighs knowing he's right. "Look, we gotta get her there."

"What're we gonna do? Kidnap her?" Peter laughs but is struck by Romans seriousness. "Seriously, we're not kidnapping a girl."

"We're not going to kidnap her," Roman smiles at him. "We're just going to suggest that she do as we say if she doesn't want... Repercussions."

" _Roman_ ," Peter is stunned. "We're not going to blackmail her."

"Okay, fine, fine fine," he puts his hands up. "Keep brainstorming, because that's all I got."

 

.........

 

Roman gets home later that night for dinner. Olivia and Shelley have already begun their first course when he enters the dining room. "So nice of you to join us," his mother says disdainfully.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he rolls his eyes and grabs his fork.

"Manners, please," Olivia glares to him.

"Sorry, Mother-dear. I'll try to be better," he says dripping with sarcasm.

"Where were you today?"

"None of your business." She grabs his chin and looks straight at him.

"Where were you."

"At Peter's cousins." She lets him go and returns to her plate.

"Thank you," she returns to her food. Roman forces down his food hoping to get out there as quickly as possible. "Roman, slow down. You'll choke."

"I'm not that lucky," he mumbles and downs the rest of his wine glass.

Once in his room, Roman lays on his bed a stares up to the ceiling. The truth is, he feels terribly overwhelmed and helpless. Peter has all the power and responsibility, Destiny has the information, and even Emily fucking Parker has things to do. Roman just drives the car and is pessimistic. His stomach turns ambition and a desire to do good. 

He's not good, and he knows it. Roman looks at himself in the mirror but can only see a monster. An ugly monster incapable and undeserving of love and affection. But he'll be damned if he admits that.

 

.........

 

The first day of school for the semester starts out normal, well as normal as it can be for Emma. The feeling of Roman's eyes are burning holes in her skull and leave her with the hair on her neck sticking straight up. He's not even sly about it, she looks back and he won't even look away. He's absolutely shameless.

Every day that the full moon gets closer her anxiety gets a little worse. She's beginning to completely avoid the cafeteria, settling into the silence of the library during lunch. There were too many people yelling or laughing everywhere for her to relax even in the slightest. She'd never been particularly great at relaxing, but now she couldn't find a settled bone in her body.

She hasn't felt like herself, or this newly evolved form of herself, since New Years, but the potion Destiny gave her has made matters much worse. She feels quite clouded and overwhelmed by almost any movement. She's on her way to sit alone in the library when a body blocks her way.

"C'mon, come sit with us," Kim says. "I haven't seen you since school got back in."

"Okay," Emma forces a smile. She doesn't want to cause a scene so she grabs a tray of food and sits at the old table. The girls talk and occasionally she peeps in, but she's overall quiet. Ally sits snuggled up next to Tyler and giggles at everything she says, not matter how unfunny. She and Kim are discussing a double date they have coming up.

There are so many people around and she feels a bit overwhelmed. From the corner of her eye, she can see Peter sitting at a table with Roman, Letha, and Shelley. She sees Peter wrap his arm around Letha and kiss her cheek. Emma pushes and stabs at the green beans on her plate.

"Hey, Em-" a voice pulls her from the activity on hand. She looks up to meet Tyler's eyes. "If you're not going to eat your pizza can I have it?"

"Oh," she says then holds out the tray. "Sure." He grabs the piece of pizza and she puts the tray back down at her. Stabbing at the green beans again, she keeps stealing glances at the couple across the cafeteria. She can see it in his eyes, he's so in love with Letha. She doesn't stop glancing over until he catches her. They both look away quickly.

Tyler and some guy at the table next to them are shouting and joking around and it's loud. She puts her head in her hands. It's so loud, oh it's so so loud. "You okay?" Kim asks her. "You don't look so good." It sounds like she's speaking from the other side of a tunnel. Emma nods, feeling a bit of sweat form on her forehead.

"I gotta go," she stands up and stumbles to the bathroom. She barely makes it to her knees in front of the toilet before spilling the contents of her guts out.

"Are you okay?" She hears Kim get a paper towel and cover it in water. "Maybe you should go home?"

"I'm fine," Emma takes the towel and wipes her face with it. "I'll be okay," she says then vomits again.

Kay comes into the office to check her out and thanks the nurse for calling. "How are you feeling?" She asks once they're buckled in and driving away.

"I'm fine," Emma leans her head against the cold window. "I think lunch didn't settle so well."

"Well, let's get you comfy when you get home and I'll make you some soup or something." Emma nods to her mom.

She comes back to school the next day still feeling a little off, but better overall.

Emma had long moved her seat in Lit to the other side of the room, as far away from Roman as possible. The day of the full moon she takes her seat like any other day. Roman enters the room and casually drops a folded piece of paper on her desk. She glances back at him before opening it but he won't meet her eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of season 1!! Reading the theories you guys have sent has me THRIVING and it's such a struggle to not say if they're right or wrong😬😬😬😬😬 Please keep them coming!


	21. Sleepovers

_Second floor bathroom_

_11:25_

She turns to look at him but he won't meet her gaze. Whatever, it's not like she's going to go anyways. She balls it back up and tosses it in her backpack. The teacher tells them to open their books, and she struggles to keep up with the notes being put on the board. Nothing too new there, though.

They're reading Macbeth now, which isn't the  _worst_ thing they could have read in her opinion. It's not that she doesn't like or respect the play, it's just that she's already read and seen it performed. Roman, on the other hand, has never and never will finish it. He hasn't even looked up the plot on the internet. 

When the bell rings, she wastes no time standing and getting as physically far away from him as possible. She goes to her locker, grabs her French book, and goes right to her desk. Not even stopping when her friends say hello to her. Once class starts, she tries to ignore the clock on the wall. It's moving slowly as if to tease her with the option to go. 

It's 13 minutes into class when her curiosity gets the better of her. She slowly raises her hand. "Oui, Emma?" The teacher calls out.

"May I go to the restroom?"

"En français?"

"Puis-je aller aux toilettes?" She bites back an eye roll.

"Oui," he nods.

"Merci." Once in the hallway, she tries to keep her feet at a normal pace, but the anxiety starts to build up. She can hear the patter of her boots speed up as she gets closer. She stands outside the door thinking it over. Is she really going to go meet him just because he asked her to?

"What?" She asks as soon as the door is closed behind her. Roman stands, leaning against the sink with a cigarette lit. He holds one out to her and she shakes her head no.

"Hi," he says softly, looking her up and down. She tries to ignore his gaze.

"I'm not coming with you guys tonight," she says flatly, putting it out there.

"Oh," he laughs a little, "this has nothing to do with the stuff tonight. Well, not completely."

"Well, what then?"

"I just thought," he struggles for words. "I don't know, I just thought if you were going to die tonight we should probably y'know..." 

She raises her eyebrows, unsure what he's trying to get to. They should what? Talk about all the horrible things he's done before she dies? "What?" She asks, frustrated.

"We should probably fuck one last time," he says so quick she almost misses it.

"Oh my god," she says with disgust and turns to leave.

"I mean, just in case," he chases after blocking the door.

"Just in case I die?" She laughs. "You are unbelievable Roman, absolutely unbelievable."

"I know, that's why I'm saying we do it one last time," he gives her a crooked grin.

"Why are you the way you are?" She crosses her arms and waits on him to move. "I think I'll be fine without one last fuck, but thank you."

"I see the way you look at Peter, still."

"Okay?"

"Well," he shrugs. "Just pretend I'm him?"

"How desperate are you?" He looks offended at her remark.

"I'm doing this for you."

"For me?" She laughs. "How considerate of you! And to think I might have died without having  _the_ Roman Godfrey inside me one last time! The humanity of it all!" She tries to push around him again. "Seriously, let me out before I scream for help."

"You won't scream," he tells her. He's right,  _she won't scream_. "You're going to be honest with me." She nods. "Do you like fucking me?"

"Yes."

"Do you think about it a lot?"

"Yes."

"Do you still like Peter?"

"Yes."

"Do you like me?"

"No."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," she replies with no hesitation. 

Roman stares down at her, her eyes are vacant and obedient. She would do anything he said. "Go back to class, this never happened." She nods and leaves. He turns back to the mirror and dabs a wet paper towel under his nose. He returns to class as if nothing happened.

He contemplates skipping the rest of the day. He's way too focused on the full moon that night to even look like he's paying attention to his teachers. Even at lunch, he feels a bit spaced out which Shelley picks upon.

_Are you okay?_ She types out.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Shell," he smiles at her. "Just tired I guess."

_Will you be home tonight?_

"No, sorry. Peter and I are having a little sleepover," he smiles empathetically to her. He would hate to be left home alone with Olivia.

"Sleepover?" Letha pops in. "Are you guys going to talk about boys and paint your fingernails."

"Yes," Peter jokes. "And when we're done we're going to have a pillow fight."

"I'm a little jealous," Letha flirts teasingly with him. Peter can feel Romans glare on him. "Maybe some other time."

Like the day before, Emma sees their interaction. She tries and fails to ignore it. Every glance up causes a small twinge of guilt to appear in her stomach. It's not like her to have feelings of jealousy towards a relationship. The girls in her friend group had dated and had their hearts broken then re-fell in love a million times over. Emma had always been content as an observer.

Now though- not so much. Now she doesn't feel so content. Not only is their guilt for having feelings towards someone that was a friend, she feels guilty for looking so lowly on Letha. Emma couldn't see why he liked her instead. Why she was the one he was gravitated to.

Sure she was sweet and kind, but she was bland. She was a stickler for the rules, and Emma hated it when she was around growing up. Roman adored her, absolutely idolized her as the epitome of kindness and virtue- something he himself would never be. Even against the cruelest intentions, Letha met them with consideration and patience.

It made Emma sick.

There's no reason she should look down upon Letha. She knows that she's being irrational, but she can't shut it down. He loved Letha so much that he didn't care she was pregnant, he was going to raise the baby as his own. He didn't care, she was worth it. And even in her predicament, she upheld her status as innocent and pure.

_She would never do the things I've done._

_______

Emma tries to play it cool that evening when she gets home. She has dinner with her mom and does her chores. Once Kay's car is out of the driveway the facade falls. When the sun starts to set she really starts to worry. It's stupid, she knows, but she's still a little afraid. 

She can't let herself sleep that night. She's locked herself in her bedroom with no intention of moving. It's funny how you realize how much you don't want to die when death is at your doorstep. There's a light sprinkle coming down outside, but she doesn't dare peak out the window to look at it.

A knock comes from downstairs. She stays seated at her desk. There's another knock. Her phone buzzes. There's a new text from Roman. She unlocks it, the text she had sent him weeks ago still there. He never replied.

_Let me in._

She doesn't reply and doesn't move.

_Seriously, let me in._

Emma stands and slowly makes her way downstairs. She peaks out through the peephole to make sure it's him. She unlocks the bolt. "What?" She asks after cracking the door open. The chain still locked.

"Let me in," he looks at her through the crack.

"Why?"

"Because I'm trying to help you," he tells her. "Peter and I decided it would make more sense for me to stay here, with you."

"You're a bit late," she nods up towards the cold night sky. Even though she doesn't want to be alone with him, she's just spooked enough to let him in. She shuts the door and slides the lock over. She opens the door and moves out of his way. He locks it behind him. The pair stand there together for a moment, unsure of what to do next. "Here," she hands him the TV remote. "I've got homework to do."

She's not going to do her homework, but she's sure as hell not staying down here with him. "Offer's still on the table," he calls to her.

"I'm good."

"It can stay between us!"

"Oh," she smiles, "well, when you put it that way."

"Really?"

"No," she gives him a look. "Goodnight, Roman."

"Goodnight," he smiles back. "I'll be down here if you change your mind." Emma doesn't reply and goes into her room. She locks the door behind her, and props it closed with her desk chair. She's not worried about the vargulf coming in.

Roman sits downstairs flipping through TV channels. He didn't want to be there, he wants to be out on the hunt with Peter. When he signed onto this whole "Sam and Dianne" thing they had going on he didn't think it'd be as a babysitter. He doesn't even see a point in it. Unless the vargulf could grow thumbs, it was highly unlikely it'd get in.

But then Peter reminded him it wasn't babysitting, it was protecting a very valuable asset to their mission. Roman didn't completely buy it, but he didn't want to disagree with Peter. He swallowed his pride and headed to Emma's before the sun even set. He didn't go straight there, but he got there eventually.

Now, he'd been sitting on her couch for over an hour. He was bored out of his mind and a little hungry. He's kicked his shoes off and is slouching on the couch. After flipping through every single channel available and finding nothing, he turns the tv off. He sighs and stands, walking upstairs to her.

"Emma!" He calls from the other side of the door. He starts knocking when she doesn't immediately answer. "Emma! Em! Emma! Emma! Em! Emma!"

"What?" She growls, standing from her spot at her desk. She reaches into her side table to grab her pocket knife. She puts it into her hoodie pocket and throws the door open.

"I'm hungry."

"And?" She toys with the knife in her pocket.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," she pinches her brow with her free hand. "Go find something in the kitchen, or order a pizza. I don't care."

"I'm ordering a pizza, do you want one?" He takes out his phone to put in his order.

"No," she tries to shut the door but he won't move. "What do you want?"

"Well, now that you mention it-"

"Nope," she cuts him off.

"I was going to say you should come downstairs. Get your mind out the gutter."

"You are such a fucking man-child," she tries to not explode. "Now please, leave," she shoos at him but he doesn't move. "Roman, what is your deal? You treat me like shit and now you want my attention? Do you hate me or do you want to fuck me?"

"Can it be both?" Emma doesn't even know how to respond to that. Luckily, she doesn't have to because at that moment the kitten shoots out the door. She pushes past Roman to catch him before he hits the stairs. "When did you get a cat?"

"None of your business," she scoops the little fellow up and brings him back to her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. The kitten claws his way out of her arms and to the floor. He walks to his favorite napping spot, under her bed.

Emma takes a seat at her desk. She needs to do some reading for Lit, but what's the point when she might die? There's so many conflicting thoughts running through her mind and it makes her dizzy.

As the night draws on, her anxiety comes and goes in waves. Even though she's trying to convince herself otherwise, Emma knows the source isn't exclusive to the vargulf. There's a whole bubble of it radiating from the source downstairs. 

She shouldn't care, but she wonders what he thinks of her now. Clearly not anything good, but still... Maybe he always felt this way, who knows. Everything she thought she knew had self-imploded.

"Pizza's here," he calls to her but she doesn't respond. She's not hungry. 

"Hey," there's a knock on the door. "Pizza's here," he tells her as if she hadn't heard him before.

"I'm not hungry," she calls back. 

"You should be! You weigh like 10 pounds, you gotta be hungry."

"I'm not hungry," she repeats.

"Fine, more for me." It takes a great deal of self-restraint for her to know through her coffee mug at the door.

As the night draws on, the light sound of raindrops turns into a full-on downpour. The cat is completely hidden under her bed and she can't get him out. She wishes she could join him under there, but instead she's buried in a mountain of blankets. The wind picks up slamming rain onto her window. The sound of lightning and thunder is distant but quickly approaching.

She used to not be afraid of storms. It was a recent development and not something she had shared with anyone. What adult woman was unable to sleep because of a storm? To be fair, it wasn't so much the storm as it was the sudden, loud noises. The moment her heartbeat steadied it would thunder again.

About 20 minutes into the unpredictable sounds that cracked clear through her headphones Emma has to rush to the bathroom. No matter how loud she turned them up or how many pillows her shoved over her head they couldn't be blocked. She struggles to catch her breath between dry heaving into the toilet and her heart palpitating too fast.

Downstairs, Roman couldn't sleep either. Not because of the storm, but because of what was out in it. Somewhere in the rain, Peter was wandering around trying to find a mythical monster that neither had actually seen. If he didn't find the vargulf tonight there was no backup plan, they would be back at the start. Shee-it out of luck.

After a long night, the sun comes up. Once she's sure of it's full emergence over the horizon, Emma goes to the kitchen to get something to eat. A creak on the stairs awakes the snoring boy on the couch from his slumber. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and watches as she pours a bowl of cereal. She doesn't notice him and jumps when he clears his throat. "You survived."

"Yeah," she nods. 

"You going to school?"

"Yeah," she nods again.

"You need a ride?"

"No."

"It's cold out there," he observes.

"I have a coat."

"The snow-"

"I have a coat and boots," she interrupts him. "I've lived in Pennsylvania my whole life, I have winter clothing."

"Okay," he nods. "Just wanted to check. I'll be on my way then," he waves and turns to leave.

Emma stands there for a moment, bowl in hand and confusion painted on her face. Why was he being so nice? Also, when did doing the bare minimum become nice in her mind?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blehhhh not super happy with this but I got there. Thank you all the comments! It seriously is so fun reading them and seeing what people think! Thank you so so so much for reading!  
> Also, how did we feel about the flashback/dream bit? Do you want more like that?


	22. Blue

She knows what's happened before even making it through the front door. There are two girls crying on the steps that don't even look up at the people passing by. Inside there are even more people crying. Emma looks around for her friends and quickly spots Ally at her locker. "What happened?"

"The Sheriff's daughters," she tells her sadly.

"Shit," Emma breathes. "Both of them?"

"Yeah," Ally nods. "Fucking crazy. Their friend, the little writer chick, she like was supposed to be with them when it happened. She apparently freaked when she found out, parents checked her into the hospital."

"Goddamn. I'd be freaked too."

The girls were freshmen and mainly known for being the Sheriff's daughters. They were both considered fairly pretty, and from what Emma understood a bit bratty. She hadn't recognized them until seeing their photos posted everywhere, but they had been standing in the group at the New Years party. She doesn't feel so bad after remembering the way they looked at her. 

The teachers, accustomed to the deaths of students, have the mourning routine down pat. For two, maybe three, days they would have "easy" days. Once that period was up it was back to hard work. While the death of teenage girls shouldn't be celebrated, Emma is thankful to have a few days to try and catch up on her school work. She always seems to be a few days behind.

At lunch, she looks around for Peter but guesses that he's probably still asleep at home. Roman had come in late and is sitting with Letha. If she could block out her emotions it would almost be like it was last year, before Peter came, before the world turned upside down and supernatural. 

__________

 

As the bell rings, Emma gathers her things and leaves the classroom. She stops by her locker to get some of her homework and her coat. She zips and buttons all of her layers, ready to make the trek home. A voice stops her in her tracks though. "Hey."

"What?" She turns to meet Romans eyes.

"We gotta meet Peter at Destinys."

"Okay," she nods, turns, and begins to walk away. She can hear him shuffling behind her and down the steps into the brisk January afternoon.

"My car's this way," he points to the other side of the parking lot. 

"Okay," she nods not even looking at him. "I'll see you there." Emma keeps walking along the sidewalk in the direction of Destiny's apartment.

"Are you really so stubborn that you won't accept a car ride?" Emma ignores him and keeps walking. "Fine, be that way!" Roman stalks off to his car, frustrated by her unwillingness to work together and in pure denial of his own mood swings and instability.

 

__________

 

"What are we going to do?" Peter asks before Roman even takes a seat. Peter looks exhausted and his eyes struggle to stay open.

"I think we should do it again," Destiny suggests from the other side of the room.

" _Maybe_  it would have worked if she had come with us," Roman says as he takes his seat. He glares at Peter for not trying hard enough.

"Maybe," Destiny agrees. "But I think what's best is to try again, see if anything different happens." The door creaks opens and Emma slowly enters. Destiny turns her head and encourages her to come in further. "Welcome."

"Hi," she says quietly, putting her backpack down.

"Take off your coat," Destiny tells her.

"Oh, no, I can't stay long," she comes forward and takes a seat. "I have some stuff to do."

" _Emma_ ," Roman starts, "We all know you don't have stuff to do."

"I have to study because some of us actually have to work to go to college," she huffs not wanting to dive in too deep with him. Roman, frustrated and exhausted from not sleeping, digs deep to hit her back.

"I've seen your test grades," he laughs. "You don't study. You're going to go to community college, probably drop out because it's " _too hard_ ," meet some guy and get pregnant, he's going to leave you, you'll move back in with your mom and probably work as a waitress. Or the vargulf will kill you."

Peter and Destiny sit, jaws dropped and eyes awkwardly averting the situation. "Wow," Emma fights out a smile blinking back the stinging in her eyes. "That was quite elaborate storytelling, maybe you should look into a creative writing program," she stands from her spot. 

"I'm an artist," he shrugs.

"You're a real fuckin' sociopath, you know that?"

"Yeah? If I'm I a sociopath you're a sociopath," he smiles. "It's a good thing we found each other."

"I'll see myself out," Emma gives a sarcastic wave.

No one tries to stop her and she's thankful for that. Once the door shuts the room remains quiet. Roman doesn't seem to be bothered by the energy in the room. He looks around waiting on someone to speak up and get back to the plan but they don't. "Well, the vargulf changed last night so that means something good right?"

"Dude," Peter says, unsure of how to move forward. "That was... A little brutal."

"She needed to hear it," he shrugs. 

"Did she?" Peter asks.

"I think," Destiny has to swallow back all the harsh words she had filling her mouth, "you only made her care less."

"She needed to know that the future doesn't matter if she's dead."

"You kinda painted a future that wasn't exactly a happy one."

"Roman," Peter looks directly at him, "Fix it."

"Fuck," he groans and stands. He follows behind her as fast as he can without slipping in the ice. She has deja vu of the last time she left Destiny's and Peter chased after her. "Emma," she turns and rolls her eyes.

"What more would you like to say?" She asks bitterly. Emma has taken a few punches to her ego before, she's got thick skin. She's heard it all: she's ugly, she's fat, she's a slut, she's a bitch. She's a teenager and teenagers are brutal. But in her entire life, no one has insulted her intellect. No one's sunk to the one thing that mattered to her. She turns to face him, ready to attack, but his eyes are so peaceful she's paralyzed.

"Forgive me," he tells her.

"Okay, I forgive you." She nods, eyes empty.

"Let's go back inside."

"Yes, let's go back inside," her face softens as she follows after him, unsure why she was so angry before. Once they're in the safety and warmth of the apartment, she allows him to help her take her coat off. She takes the seat she had recently vacated.

"Alright, back to business," Roman returns to his seat.

"Uh, yeah-" Destiny feels a chill go up her spine. "I think you should try again, see if anything's different."

"I can't," she shakes her head quickly. "That was the worst- one of the worst things I've even been through. I don't want to do it again."

"We can't make you," Peter says, glaring at Roman. He places and hand comfortingly on her back and moves it in small circles."But I agree with Des. It's the only way to be sure. The next moon is our last chance." Emma nods. He's right. Who knows how many more people could die after that. 

"Okay," she takes a deep breath looking only to Peter. "One more time, and that's it. No more."

"Someone can stay with you, make sure everything goes okay," Peter suggests. Emma shakes her head. She only knows what happened in her delusional state. It's a mystery of how her crawling around her room in tears and drenched in sweat would look to a normal person. "Okay."

"We'll wait until the weekend," Destiny tells them. "It's way too soon to do it now."

"Fine," Emma nods.

"Don't take any sleeping pills though, that should help calm the dreams down," she warns. "You're doing something really important. Your help is absolutely necessary."

 

__________

 

By the time Friday rolls around everyone has moved through their mourning period and are back to their normal lives. It's a strange and numbing cycle to live through. Even the twin's weird little friend has made her way back to school, albiet her hair has turned almost completely white. 

After about a week without sleeping pills, Emma is actually excited to drink the bottle of sludge sitting in her bathroom. It's all she can think about. She'll take sleep even if it means getting it from a drugged state. Her head has been pounding non-stop and she's pretty sure she's never caked on so much concealer under her eyes.

The days are just a routine at this point. Go to class, try to take notes, go to a locker; repeat. When she gets home she does chores; has dinner; tries to study; takes a couple shots of Bacardi to sleep for a couple of hours; wake up; repeat. Even Kay has pointed out that she looks tired.

Emma was so close to going home, so damn close. As soon as her mom goes to work she's downing the sludge and crashing out. She just has to make it past the second half of the day and a few hours at home. 

She's been trying to sit with her friends at lunch at least some of the time. The library isn't definitely preferred over the loud cafeteria, but appearances matter. Occasionally dealing with the social aspects of life is better than people digging around into her life. The week has left her too tired to try to join in on a conversation so she just smiles and nods along, laughs when everyone laughs. A sudden movement followed by a loud thunk to her left scared her. A boy has appeared in the empty seat next to her.

"Hey," the boy smiles to her.

"Hi?"

"It's Alex, we met back at the New Years Eve party."

"Oh, hey," she nods to him, recognizing him as the second guy she danced with.

"Do you wanna like go to the movies sometime? Or coffee?" He asks, playing it as nonchalantly as possible. Emma smile falters for a minute as she thinks it over. 

"Why? What do you want?"

"Uh-" he smiles awkwardly. "I just thought we could hang out?"

"Like a- like a date?" She hasn't been asked out since Beck texted then ghosted her. Maybe it could be a fun, normal thing to do? That's a thing normal people do, right?

"Yeah."

"Okay, sure," she takes out a notepad and begins scribbling on it. "Here's my number, text me."

"Will do," he puts the note in his pocket before returning to his friend group. Emma turns back to her friends and tries to act interested in what they're saying, but there's a flutter in her stomach. She's feeling giddy and girly over being asked out, but she would never admit it. She was asked out, right? That's how people go on dates, right?

 

__________

 

Kay seems to be taking her time getting ready for work. Emma bounces her heels under the table waiting for her mother to finish eating. She tries to play it cool and helps usher her mother out of the house. She watches the car drive into the dark night through the window.

She's smarter this time, laying down before drinking it all in one gulp.

With a loud gasp, she opens her eyes and is back in the room. Back where she started last time. She's expecting it this time and isn't  going to sit and take it. The box is still in the corner and her curiosity burns. Somehow, Emma knows there is no way to get to the box. It's not for her.

Instead of staying seated when Roman stands, she uses all the energy and force she can muster in the dream to join him at full height. His sternest falters momentarily but he pulls it back together.

"Where are we?" He asks, but without the conviction she remembers. He sounds desperate now.

"I don't know," she admits. "I don't know where we are." They stay there, facing each other making no movements. He moves his hands towards her face and pushes her hair behind her ears.

"Are you scared of me?" He asks softly.

"No."

His hands move down from her face to her shoulders and down to her biceps. He grips her so hard that his knuckles begin to turn white. Crying out in pain, she tries to pull away but he won't budge. "Why aren't you scared of me?" When there's no reply he shakes her roughly and repeats the question.

"I don't know," she admits. "I don't know why." She closes her eyes and shakes her head quickly.  _No, I know this. I've been here. Show me something new._ Roman doesn't quit jerking her around but the world seems to crumble until she's laying on the summer grass again.

On her left, Roman is laying back in the grass as well. Emma takes moment to think before proceeding forward. It seems like the same scenes are happening, but there's something off in them.  _Anticipate what's next_.

Eyes open, she turns her head to face Roman. He squints his eyes and looks over at her. "What do you want to do today?" He asks. She shrugs. "Let's go to the mill." Emma thinks it over, she has the ability to decide this time.

"Okay," they stand and make their way to their bikes. They race down the same old familiar paths and to the mill. Roman gets there first this time and quickly grabs his break, almost falling over in the process. Emma has to do the same to barely dodge hitting him. He grabs her by the wrist and pulls her down to the ground. 

"Hey-" She tries to yell at him but his hand cups her mouth.

"There's someone here," he whispers. No one was ever here.

He motions for her to crawl with him to behind a bush. They peak through into the fenced-in yard and wait for a sign of movement. It startles her to see life in the deserted building. "Who is it?" Roman asks.

"I know her," Emma says. It's Dr. Chasseur. "Let's go." She grabs at his sleeve and pulls him forward. Roman doesn't fight her, instead, he stays on her heels. They run through the woods and, even though it's the wrong way, they make it back to the mansion. "We have to keep going," she thinks aloud.

"Going where?" Roman asks. He's still 9 and terrified. There's no logical answer, and she doesn't know that it matters. Somehow, she just knows they have to keep going. With his shirt sleeve in hand, she pulls him into the pool and holds him down. He screams and fights to get away from her but she won't let go. When she accepts drowning and allows water into her lungs she lets him go. She watches as he swims away and back to the surface until her vision goes black.

The sound of liquid hitting the tile floor echos through the bathroom. Once again Emma assumes but is wrong, that it's water from the pool. It's a dark grey and textured bile coming from her. She knows it's a dream but the taste and burn is almost enough to convince her otherwise.  _What am I looking for?_

The hallway is grey and bland like the room her legs take her to. There's no sign or even a running thought of what she's looking for. She just needs to find it. She returns to the drawer from last time and digs and digs into the wood until the familiar voice brings her back to the hospital. 

She's determined this time to break through the crowd of doctors and nurses to the table. She walks forward but a strong hand grabs her wrist. "It's not for you," the same nurse from her last dream repeats.

"I don't care," she grits her teeth and yanks herself free and approaches the group. 

On the table, under the bright spherical light from above sits the same sack of something flesh like. A doctor from the institute prods at it. Emma can recall his face from previous gala's but his name is nowhere in her memory. The small creature is curled up under its protective layer. It suckles at it's own feet creating its own grotesquely perfect ouroboros. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, so I've tried to refrain from asking questions like this, on a level on 1-10 how shitty do we want Roman to be? I'm trying to pick between two different doors and I want both but I can't have both so I need you guys to decide for me!!!


	23. Red

The doctor looks up at her and pulls down his mask. "It's not for you," he echoes the nurse from before. Deep within her, Emma can feel that she is intruding on something. It really is not for her.

She leaves the circle and returns to the nurse who grabs both of her hands. "See how much worse it is?" The nurse asks showing her her fingers. Her nails are cracked and still spilling blood. "Let's get you cleaned up."

The nurse takes her to a different room. She passes Peter in the hallway again. He still doesn't seem to see her. She's seated on a bed waiting for what's next. She waits and waits.

This is purgatory. It must be. She has died and is now in purgatory awaiting eternal damnation. She's accepted this by the time the door opens. The same doctor from earlier enters wearing a suit now. He removes his jacket and takes a seat. There is no greeting, he gets straight to work cleaning and bandaging her fingers. When he's finished he stands to leave.

"What's next?" Emma asks before he gets to the door.

"What do you want to be next?"

"I want to find the vargulf." The doctor frowns to her.

"You'll never find it here."

"Then where?" She asks. 

"It was good seeing you again, Miss Parker. You're all grown up now," he gives her a half-hearted smile.

"Where do I go?" There's no response, the doctor just leaves. She tries to chase after him but the hallway is empty. On the right side, the lights are off. On the left, they flicker. _Forward_ she thinks  _the only way out is forward._ Emma walks down the left side of the hallway.

She walks, never getting anywhere. Every time she moves forward the destination gets further away. "There you are," a voice startles her. She can vaguely place it in her memory. "Come sit with me." Emma runs until she's out of breath and finally at the end of the hallway. Bursting through the door. The natural sunlight hurts her eyes and they take a moment to adjust.

She's back at the mansion. It's a room with mahogany trimming and bookshelves lining the wall. It's Roman's father's office. As children, they weren't allowed in here. "Come on, sit down," his voice calls to her.

Emma takes a seat on the other side of the desk. The man that only remains in blurred fragments of her memory sits at his chair. She can't quite get a good look at him, the sun shines in her eyes as she tries to remember his face. 

"I'm going to tell you something very important, Emma," he says as if speaking to a child. "This is our secret, okay?" She nods. "You are a smart girl, I can already see that. Always remember that what's up here," he taps on his head, "is your way out. When you are older you need to leave this town and never come back. Do you understand?"

A loud crash comes from outside the door and then a young Roman bursts through the door. "Found you!" He shouts.

"Are you playing hide and go seek?" J.R. asks with a beaming smile. He stands and walks to Roman, scooping him up and pretending to almost drop him. "Well don't let me hold you up, go play."

Emma takes one last glance at the man before following behind Roman. She wishes she could remember his face better. Roman leads her down the hallway and upstairs to his room. He holds the door open for her. When the door closes and she turns around to face him he's older. "I don't know what to do," he groans and throws himself on his bed. "She's so hot."

Emma laughs remembering this conversation. Freshman year, he had a thing for a new girl, Melody Sheperd. She wouldn't give him a second look. Roman wasn't used to that, Roman always got as many looks as he wanted. He was Roman  _Fucking_ Godfrey. "Ignore her," she hears a voice come from the bathroom. A barely younger version of herself appears in pajamas. "Stop paying so much attention to her, you look desperate."

"I'm not desperate!"

"You look it to me," she clicks her tongue and joins him on the bed. It's dark out now. "What're you gonna do if she ever pays attention to you? You're not going to date her." Roman huffs and doesn't answer because she's right. 

"Let's go down to the lake tomorrow."

"Why?" Emma turns up her face in disgust. The lake was gross and they had a pool in the backyard.

"Just to go, I'm bored. You'll never go to the mill, so let's go to the lake."

"Yeah, I don't go to the mill because there's nothing to do there besides get tetanus." He laughs at that. "It's the first day of summer, can't we just... I don't know, sleep in?"

"No! This is our first summer of high school, our lives are beginning!" He knocks into her with his shoulder. 

"I'd like my life to begin well-rested, thank you," she climbs to the other side and under the covers. "Besides, college is when life really begins."

"I'm not going to college," he admits. "I'm just gonna take over the company."

"You're taking over the company?" She asks quietly. They'd never talked about it, never really talked about the future at all. It made sense and she should have seen it coming, but she had never thought about him staying here when she leaves.

"Well, yeah. It's  _Godfrey_ Industriesand I am Roman  _Godfrey."_

_"_ Wow, never would have put two and two together," she rolls her eyes. There's a soft knock on the door. It opens without an answer.

"I didn't say you could come in," Roman whines.

"It's my house," Olivia smiles bitterly to him. "I just wanted to say goodnight and let you know I have to go to the tower."

"What for?" He asks but knows the answer, he's not stupid like she thinks. He knows that Olivia and Norman are having an affair. It's weird and gross but so is almost everything else his mother does.

"I have work to do. Last minute stuff," there's a pause in the air. "But Shelley's upstairs asleep and Anna's retired to her room as well."

"Okay?" Roman huffs wanting desperately for her to leave.

"I just wanted to let you know," she smiles. "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight!" She calls back. Once the door is shut Roman lays back down.

"Fuck her," he groans. "She's such a bitch."

 

...........

 

Emma wakes up in the morning feeling warm from the happy memory in the dream. When things were simple. She can feel the nostalgia and joy in her stomach. It's going to be a good day. She makes herself a nice breakfast and eats everything, literally everything on her plate. 

There's homework to be done and notes to be studied but the couch calls out to her. She lounges around in her pajamas and watches TV all day. There's a buzz from her phone. Emma rarely gets texts but she knows what it is before she reads it.

_Peter: Anything new?_

_Emma: Yes, but the mill again._

_Peter: You're absolutely sure? There was nowhere else?_

_Emma: There were other places but I know it. I know you need to be at the mill. The doctor woman was there._

_Peter: Fuck_

_Peter: I'll talk to Destiny_

 

...........

 

Roman paces around his absurdly large bedroom. It's mostly empty and the wall is barren save for a few photos. He'd spent the day with Letha, helping her find baby things.

"Shouldn't Peter be doing this?" He asks her once they enter the store.

"No," Letha shakes her head. "I think normally a girlfriend would come. I don't have any of those, though. You're the closest thing I have."

"Thanks," he says sarcastically. People are giving them glares, but Letha doesn't seem to notice. The tiny socks and tiny hair bows have her distracted. Roman leans into her ear and hisses. "Everyone thinks we're teen parents."

"I am a teen parent," she laughs at him.

"Yeah, but I'm not," he looks around making eye contact with the store clerk. "They think I'm the dad."

"Well ignore them. You're my best girlfriend," she teases him. "And my prettiest girlfriend."

"Pretty?

"With some lipstick and liner, I could really do a number on your lips."

He's not sure what to do with himself now. He's not sober, but he feels too attached to reality to be comfortable. Something deep within him stirs.

He's unwell, Roman knows that much. There are voices- whispers- all the time. He's never admitted to himself, or to anyone else for that matter, but he hears them. In the bathroom, the mirror shows a beautiful person, but that's not truly him. The inside of him is ugly and deprived and he lives with that.

Roman takes his razor and runs it along his face like a brush on a canvas. Using his fingers he applies his war paint. 

 

...........

 

Somehow, the dreams from the night before had a blowback. Emma can't sleep and what sleep she does have is haunted by dreams of hospital gowns and bloody fingers. In the morning her blankets are damp and she's covered in sweat.

The sun doesn't shine much, it's quite gross and grey outside. It'll snow more tonight. She's sitting on the floor with notebooks and textbooks spread everywhere when she hears a vibration. There's a new text on her phone.

_Unknown Number: Hey! Wanna get coffee today?_

Emma assumes who it is and says yes with a small smile.

"Did you walk all the way here?" She nods. "Why didn't you tell me, I could've picked you up!"

"I walk everywhere," she shrugs. "I don't live far from here."

"Well, jeez," Alex takes off his scarf. "It's literally freezing out there." She laughs at him and shoo's him away as he tries to wrap it around her.

"I'm not cold anymore!" She giggles. It's an unfamiliar sound and it startles her a bit.

"Fine," he fake huffs. "But when you lose your toes don't come crying to me." He motions towards a table for her to sit at. "What do you want?"

"Coffee's good."

"What kind?"

"Just black is fine."

"Really?" He asks and she nods. "I pinned you down as a sugary-blended coffee drinker."

"I do like them," she admits. "But I'm really tired."

"One cup of pure caffeine, coming up," he smiles and goes to the register.

Emma sits at the table waiting on him to return. She's surprised at how well everything seems to be going. Of course, it's pretty early on, but she's having fun so far. Something begins to feel funny to her as if someone is watching her. She realizes that there is, in fact, someone watching her, a very familiar someone. She watches as the woman crosses from her table to the bathroom.

"A black coffee for the lady-"

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom really quickly," she smiles and excuses herself.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asks the woman bent over washing her hands in the sink.

"Curiosity," she responds quietly and keeps her head down. 

"You're scared," Emma observes. "Why?"

"There's something evil in you," Dr. Chasseur tells her, looking at her from the mirror. "God will show you salvation if you repent now. Revelations 21:8- But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death. Job 15:35- They conceive trouble and give birth to evil. Their-"

"Thanks, if I wanted to be preached to I'd visit my neighbors. I'm on a date. Please, fuck off," Emma turns around and walks away. The woman continues shouting the rest of the verse but Emma refuses to listen.

When she returns to her seat she's glad to see her coffee has cooled down. "You know her?" Alex asks.

"No, she's some weirdo. She was yelling bible verses in the bathroom."

"I swear," he laughs, "every single day this town gets weirder."

 

...........

 

Headlights beam into the driveway and through the windows. Emma sleeps soundly through this but wakes up when she hears the door unlock. She looks out the window and it's still dark, too early for her mom to be home. Her adrenaline kicks in, grabbing her knife and going downstairs.

Entering into the living room, she shields her eyes from the overhead light. It's just Kay. "Mom?" She asks, relaxing a bit.

"Hi, honey."

"Why you back so early?" Kay approaches her and puts a hand on her arm.

"There was another animal attack tonight," she says softly.

"Who?" Emma wakes up fully.

"A girl in your grade," Kay sighs. "It was Anna.."

"Fuck," Emma swears. Kay doesn't even try to reprimand her. "That's horrible."

"They found her at the country club, on the golf course," Kay takes a seat on the couch. "I wanted to come home and tell you before someone else did."

"Oh," Emma sits down next to her mom. Anna had been someone who was invited to all of her birthday parties growing up. As they got older, Anna became one of those graceful girls that could sing and paint and dance, then turn around and kick ass on a soccer field. She was popular in middle school and Emma not so much. 

They had briefly reconnected freshman year when Emma joined the soccer team. Not friends but friendly for sure. Anna had a really full future ahead of her, that was really what hurt the most. Sure, she was sad for the other girls, but Anna had so much going for her. So many things Emma had spent longing for. Now no one would have it. What a waste.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely notes! The next few chapters are gonna b juicy!


	24. Mind Games Pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double feature coming at ya! Should have part two up tomorrow!

**Putting out a double feature. Part 2 should be up tomorrow!**

 

The week following the latest death feels sadder and more desperate than previous ones. It was the straw that broke the camels back, too much death at once. Everyone could feel the weight it had put on the town. There was no dismissing it or looking away. That's not to say they didn't try.

Roman and Peter especially feel that weight. They are disappointed in themselves more than anything. They had tried everything, but nothing seemed to work. Destiny had given them to the next month at the latest, they were running out of time. Something had to be done.

They always excuse themselves halfway through lunch for a smoke break and hang out in the stairwell way past the bell ringing. The stairwell is more often silent than not. They know what needs to be done, it's figuring out how to it that's the problem.

"How are we going to get her to come?" Roman asks, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll just ask," Peter holds out his hand for one which Roman gladly shares.

"Yeah," he scoffs, "Because that's worked so well so far."

"She seems pretty upset about it this time," he inhales.

"Emma thinks they used to be friends."

"Were they?"

"No," Roman shakes his head. "I was her only friend until high school." Peter can't think of any way to respond to that. "Let me handle it."

"You?"

"I know her mind better than she does. I can take care of it," Roman promises.

"Don't do anything stupid," Peter warns him.

"No, nothing stupid. Just very strong a suggestion." 

"You're kidding right?" Roman stares up blankly at him. He's not. "You really don't have feelings, do you? Maybe you should talk to a therapist about this."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that whether or not you remember it, she used to be your friend. Your only friend. I know you have the memory and emotional capacity of a fucking goldfish, but could you not be an asshole for one day?"

"Peter!" Roman calls up to the boy as he climbs the stairs. He stands at the bottom. "We have one chance to do this. One more chance, then that's it. I'm not fucking around, if this doesn't go right we are fucked. Do you hear me?"

"Oh, fuck you," Peter scoffs and leaves the stairwell. Roman remains there finishing his cigarette well into next period. 

 

.....

 

The nightmares have only seemed to grown worse since the last time she took the potion. To top that off, her sleeping pill stash is growing dangerously low. Emma had been trying to become less reliant on sleeping aids, but the exhaustion had begun to bubble over. She tosses and turns even after drinking a fourth of a bottle of liquor. 

There's a craving in the back of her throat to smoke a cigarette, but she refuses to go outside on the porch. Slipping in and out of lucidity is the only form rest she's managed for a few days. Those short moments of rest are filled with the smell of dirt or the silence of a room that is only interrupted by two bodies breathing. 

She gives up on the rest of the night when she awakes with the distinct feeling of a hand gripping her jaw. The sun comes up slowly, taking its sweet time illuminating the world. The window radiates the winter chill from outside and Emma's only escape route is deeper into the blankets.

Peter struggles to sleep. He blinks into the darkness thinking about how he hadn't done enough. The guilt had become quite heavy and suffocating. It was comforting knowing that he had someone who also felt that way, but Roman would never fully understand the gravity of it all. It was someone of Peter's kind doing this. Someone like him. People thought it was him.

Right now, Roman didn't have to worry about feeling guilty for the crimes of his kind. Right now, Roman just thought he had a thing for blood and he could live in that ignorance for a while. Peter never had the luxury of ignorance. Given who Roman is, he might never feel guilty like Peter does. 

Even though it's late, Peter texts Letha to tell her goodnight. There's something so calming in knowing that across town she's comfortably asleep in her bed, probably with a hand on her stomach ready to protect their little girl from the world and all its evils. It also scares him shitless.

He's 18, the same age his dad was when he was born. He scares himself with thought comparing himself to the man. It's in his blood to run, he wants to see what's over the hill, meet new people. It's almost like cutting off a limb agreeing to give it up. But he's doing so willingly.

When Peter does finally drift off to sleep he dreams of running.

 

.....

 

The class sits forward quickly scribbling down notes as their teacher rambles off in French about stereotypes and cultural differences in France. Emma's catching about every other word and hoping to fill in the blanks later. A knock at the door breaks all of their concentration and clearly enrages the teacher. The door creaks open and the secretary from the offices pops in. "Bonjour!" She says, not even attempting to pronounce it correctly. "Principal Dowling would like to see Miss Parker."

Emma follows the short woman down the hall to the principal's office. The woman doesn't say anything to her, just holds her mouth in a shape of disgust. She knocks on the door and opens it for Emma before leaving.

"Ah, come in," Dowling waves her in. "Take a seat." Emma looks around the tense room. One of the guidance counselors is there. "You're not in trouble, okay?" She nods.

"What's going on?" The principal looks to the consular.

"It has been brought to our attention," he starts. "That one of your fellow students has made a threat that they might share some private information about you."

"What?"

"Look, Ms. Parker, we're not going to call your mom unless you want us to," the guidance counselor tries calms her down. "You're a legal adult and you're not in trouble-." 

"I really don't understand what is happening," she smiles shaking her head.

"There are sensitive photos that a student has of you," the counselor finally spills. "Another one of your peers reported to us that they're concerned they might be shared." Immediately Emma's skin burns and she sees red. She had never been so angry and embarrassed at the same time. Sweat pools in her hands and her back.

"As we said, you're not in trouble," the principal reassures her. "We just want to make sure that nothing happens and that it doesn't happen again. You need to be careful, these kinds of images could really ruin your future, Miss Parker." Emma slides further down into her chair. They say she's not in trouble but it sure feels like they're lecturing her. "But," he continues, "Mr. Godfrey  _and_ his mother will be here. I don't want you to feel cornered."

"Unlike Roman, my mom's gotta work," Emma explains. "You can't drag her down here."

"That's fine," he nods. She does wish that she had the kind of relationship with her mother where she could bring her down here and ask for her help. She loves her mom, and Kay? Kay loves Emma very much, but it's different. The idea of explaining to her mom why this is happening makes her skin crawl.

She sits in the chair for an absurdly long time. She's a sweaty, sticky mess. She can feel the heat radiating. When the door begins to open she takes a breath bracing herself for the explosion. Behind the principal, Roman and Olivia file it.

"Alright, Roman," the principal starts once he's seated, but the boy won't look up from the floor. "Would you like to explain what happened?"

"Not particularly," he sighs.

" _Roman_ ," Olivia says sternly. He doesn't move. "What did he do?"

"Well, it appears that Ms. Parker allowed your son to take some..." The middle-aged man awkwardly takes in a breath. "He-"

"I," Roman sits up. "I took some very tasteful art photos of Emma."

"Okay?" Olivia asks and looks towards the girl. Emma sinks further into the chair and covers her beet red face with her hands. "So?" Roman doesn't continue so the consular steps in.

"Roman took and then proceeded to threaten to distribute nude photos of Ms. Parker without her consent." Olivia's face contorts into a shape neither teens had ever seen before. 

"Without her consent?" She repeats slowly.

"That is not what happened," he looks around the room. "Not at all!"

"Please elaborate then," Dowling tells him.

"I have the photos," he grumbles. "But I never made  _any_  threats to share them! I really don't know where this is coming from."

"Perhaps, Olivia says cooly. "This would be a good time to discuss the risks of young women allowing these photos to be taken." Emma is so embarrassed to be sitting in that chair that she can't even feel angry over how it's being blamed on her. 

"We intend to discuss that, Ms. Godfrey," the consular tells her. "Mistakes have been made and lessons have been learned. I'll remind you that Roman's behavior could warrant legal action."

"What behavior?" Roman is getting more pissed by the second. 

"I think," Olivia stares at the principal then at the consular, "that we should forget this happened. Right, Emma? You want to forget this happened." She looks to the girl compacted as far down into the chair as physically possible. "Wouldn't you like to forget?" The room stays quiet for a moment as her words settle into the air. "Roman, I think it's best that you make sure anyone who knows about this forgets as well."

Roman sits still, staring at his mother with his lips pursed. "And," she continues calmly, "you will make sure no one else finds out." He nods yes. She reaches her hand on to Roman's shoulder and smiles at everyone in the room. "Well, that was a great meeting about how outstanding my son has been doing in school. Run along, Emily. She was never here."

Emma stands and leaves the room, instantly in a daze. She returns to her seat in French but can't seem to remember where she went, or why she went there. The rest of the class passes by in a blur, and she opts to go to the library for lunch. She tries to study but the words on the pages are unreadable. They might as well be hieroglyphics. 

The bell rings and she makes her way to biology still in a daze. Nothing feels real. At her seat, she stares at the board unable to comprehend anything happening. She can feel someone staring at her. Glancing over her shoulder, her intuition is confirmed. Roman meets her gaze and doesn't look away.

The area behind her eyes begins to ache and seeming pulsate. Emma raises her hand to be excused to the restroom. "You just had a break," the teacher tells her then continues to write on the board. Shifting in her seat, she pressed her forehead down on her hands. She's going to be sick.

Ignoring calls from the teacher, she stumbles and sways down the hallway to the bathroom. The bile rising in her throat appears then disappears. 

Emma's head feels like it could explode. She leans against the bathroom stall squinting her eyes closed.  _Thump. Thump. THUMP._ Her heartbeat rings through her head. Forcing her eyes open long enough to move forward, she vomits into the toilet. It provides enough relief for her to open her eyes.

There's blood in the toilet. Her heart beats louder, panicking over what could cause this.  _Drop. Drop_. The blood's not coming from her stomach, but rather her nose. She reaches to her nostrils and realizes that it's both sides bleeding. There's so much blood,  _so_  much blood. It drips down to her pants and on the floor. 

Leaning her head up, she tries to convince herself everything is fine, the bleeding will stop and her headache will go away. This will have been the 4th time she's gone home early sick since this semester started. It's getting a bit weird. 

She wills herself to return to Biology class once the bleeding stops. The teacher turns to her, ready to give her detention. Instead, she glances at her then does a double take. Her hair is tangled, face flushed, and she furrows her brows in pain from the headache. She looks like a goddamn mess and isn't sure that what she's seeing around her is real. She can't get it out of her head that she's been terribly misled about reality.

 

.....

 

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice startles her. It's Alex. He leans on the locker next to her.

"Yeah, just a migraine," she points to her head.

"Let me give you a ride home," he offers and she agrees. There's no way that walk would do anything other than end in another nose bleed and a bruised ass. He puts his hand on the small of her back and guides her through the icy pavement to his car. He drives a newish Jeep that can be seen around town during the summer with a kayak on top.

He opens the passenger side door. "Here," he says helping her up to the seat. "I'll even buckle you in, your majesty" he teases.

"I would laugh if I wasn't in so much pain," Emma pouts.

 

.....

 

When she wakes up from her migraine nap, she shoots a quick text to Alex thanking him for his help.  _You can thank me by going to the movies with me this weekend._ Emma would be lying if she said she didn't have a flutter in her stomach. She tries to play it cool

**_Emma:_ ** _Sounds like a fair trade to me._

**_Alex:_ ** _Wanna do like the 8:30 show?_

**_Emma:_ ** _Could we do a matinee? I'm a lil sketched by being out at night tbh_

**_Alex:_ ** _Totally get that._

Not only was he super chill and nice, he was so good looking. She couldn't believe someone like him would give her a second look, much less a second date. This was a date, right? Over the years, she'd helped her friends get ready for dates. It was very strange and exciting to feel those roles reversed. Letting her imagination take over, she wonders if they'd go to prom together or if they'd even go on a third date. 

**_New Text to Ally:_ ** _Hey I have a boy question_

**_Ally:_ ** _Suck his dick_

**_Emma:_ ** _that was NOT my question at all but ok_

**_Ally:_ ** _It's always the solution though_

_Forreal what's up_

**_Emma:_ ** _How do you know if someone's interested in you not just like wanting to be friends?_

**_Ally:_ ** _Are you asking about Alex?_

_bc he likes you_

_I have my sources_

**_Emma:_ ** _are you sure?_

**_Ally:_ ** _yes_

_and I give my full blessing_

_get it_ 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

**_Emma:_ ** _blocked AND reported_

**_Ally:_ ** _My baby's all grown up and going on her first date._

**_Emma:_ ** _Can I borrow something to wear?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you for all the support!


	25. Mind Games Pt. II

 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Roman yells as soon as the trailer door opens. Peter looks stunned. "You went to the fucking principal? Really?"

"I didn't want you to-"

"To what? 

"I didn't want you to ruin her life!"

"Ruin her life?" Roman scoffs. "Do you think that lowly of me? Do you think I'd do that?"

"I wouldn't put it past you!" Peter shoots to him. 

"Oh, so you're Mr. Morality now? Saint Peter? You forget that I know what Letha doesn't!"

"Fuck you," Peter pushes Roman away from him. "You know goddamn well that you'd pull some shit like that."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," Roman pushes back. 

"I was doing what I thought was right!"

"Where the fuck did this even come from?" Roman's fucking furious. Furious. "How did this little twisted idea pop up in your head?" He taps at Peter's head for emphasis. "You fucking dumb fuck!"

"You said in the stairwell-"

"Make a suggestion. I said make a suggestion."

"You didn't mean?" Roman shakes his head, jaw clenched. "The creepy eye thing?"

"Yeah, with the creepy eye thing!"

"Oh shit."

"Do you know how horrific that entire situation was? For me? For her?" Roman shouts, still angry. "They called Olivia! What didn't you just talk to me? I spent all day cleaning up your mess!"

"I'm sorry, dude," Peter puts his hands up. "You don't listen to me. You never listen to me."

"Oh, fuck you!" Roman yells turning around. "Get in the car!"

"Yes, ma'am," Peter mumbles following behind.

 

.....

 

"I can't sit it out again, Des," Peter pleads. "We have to do something."

"I told you to run."

"Peter's right," Roman says much to the disdain of Destiny. "We have to do something."

"I know," she mumbles. "You should have ran. It comes at a price."

"I know. What do we need?" Peter asks.

"Some basic stuff, some stuff to say. I can get most of it, just give me a couple days."

"What else does he need? What don't you have?" Roman asks her.

"Sângele celor condamnați."

"Pardon?" Roman chuckles.

"Blood of the damned," Destiny clarifies.

"Emma," Peter fills in the rest.

 

.....

 

"That is so much popcorn," Emma laughs as Alex spills some of it into the aisle. He takes his place in the lumpy seat next to her. The movie theater had been there for almost one hundred years and it showed. The little rinky-dink theater on Main Street was the only place that showed old movies instead of new releases.

Since he drove her home that day they'd been texting nonstop. She's found that they actually have a decent amount in common. They both like old bad horror movies and they both have a habit of rewatching old TV shows instead of new ones. Even in music, there was some overlap. Before he'd texted her she actually knew very little about him.

"It's normal size," he tells her seriously. "I'm a growing boy, so I need my nutrients."

"Ah, yes, chemical-ridden butter. The basis of a healthy diet," she giggles before eating a handful.

"Hey!" He pulls it away. "Get your judgmental hands out of my popcorn. I don't share with bullies."

 

.....

 

"Can I at least drive you home?" Alex asks as they walk out of the movie theater. "It's getting dark now."

"Okay, fine," she tries to act disappointed but smiles.

Alex lived on the lucky side of Hemlock Grove. The town split when the mill shut down, most people were either White Tower Rich or Steel Mill Poor. His family was White Tower Rich. The mill had closed down before Emma was born, but the town could still feel the effects of it.

She gathered that he didn't really know what his father did, but it had something to do with computer engineering. He said it sounded terribly boring and Emma could see why. His dad made so much money that his mom didn't have to work. She was the head PTA mom, a mini-van drive the kids to soccer practice mom. Emma's own childhood couldn't have been further from that.

He parks in front of her house and looks over to her. "I had a good time."

"Me too," she nods trying to be cool. She wonders if it's obvious how much she likes him, likes being liked. In the back of her mind, she's already thinking about how they might spend Valentine's day together. Her stomach curls at her own behavior. She's being so... girly?

"I have a question," he asks with a tinge of nervousness.

"What's up?" She asks, worried he's upset about something.

"Oh- my dad," he hesitates. "My dad's got this work dinner thing. It's like a little thing with his department, but we're all going and I wanted to know if you wanted to, y'know, go... with me?"

"Oh," she giggles. "I would love to."

 "Cool, cool. It's next weekend."

"Just let me know details and stuff and I'll be there." The air shifts and she can feel what is about to happen. He leans in for a kiss and she doesn't react at first, mouth flat against his. And when she does react it's to back away to the door. "I'm sorry," she puts her hands on her face, embarrassed.

"There's nothing to be sorry for?" He tells her. "I should have asked first." She forces a smile and stutters a goodbye. Once she's in the safe walls of her home hell breaks loose in her. She wants to scream and break things. Kicking angerily at the bottom of the door, she thinks to herself: 

_Why can't I be normal?_

_Why can't I be normal?_

_Why can't I just like him like a normal person_?

She's crying and still kicking at the door when her phone vibrates. It keeps going and going and she ignores it. It goes off again. She grabs it, wipes her face clear, and answers the call. "Hey."

"Hey," Peter says from the other side. "You busy?" Emma pulls the phone away to sniff and wipe her face again.

"A little, what's up?"

"Can you come over to Destiny's? We have a uh- we have a solution in progress."

"Now?" She asks.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she tries to sound convincing. "You want me to come now?"

"Yeah, if you can."

"Oh- yeah, I'm on my way." 

"We can come get you-"

"No, I'll walk."

Emma pops into the bathroom to brush her hair. Thank god for waterproof makeup. She runs a brush through her tangled hair and tries to blink back the spare moisture remaining in her eyes. Her feet move at optimal speed, trying to get there before the sun goes down.

"You look nice," Destiny smiles to her as she takes off her coat. "You have a date or something?" She teases. Emma bites her lip and bites back a smile. She thanks Destiny for the compliment and feels a little nicer. More often than not her outfits have been oversized sweaters and leggings, but today was special. So instead she wore real jeans and a shirt Ally brought her. Her entire wardrobe was oversized at this point.

"Let's get this going," Roman says bluntly, breaking up the moment. He'd been staring at her, arms crossed in the corner since she walked in. 

"We need something from you," Destiny explains.

"What?"

"We need some blood."

"Blood?"

"Blood," Peter repeats and nods his head.

"Why?"

"It's a part of a ritual," Peter gulps. "So I can change if I need to. Anytime, any moon."

"Is that safe?" Emma asks, concerned.

"Not particularly, but he's strong," Destiny steps in.

"Why  _my_ blood?"

"It's damned," Roman says, bored of this whole thing and ready to move on.

"My blood's damned?"

"From the vargulf," Destiny tells her.

"Yeah?" Emma laughs nervously. "But like we're going to do this, and it's not going to kill me." The room stays quiet. "It's not going to kill me, right? Peter?" He looks down. "Peter?" The room stays eerily silent for a moment.

"I'm confused," Roman says breaking quiet.

"It's in your future," Destiny is truly sympathetic.

"Were you just not going to tell me?" There's just silence. Deafening silence.

"So she's going to die either way?" Roman asks looking up from the table. He's confused and clearly out of the loop. "You didn't tell me that. And you didn't tell her that?"

"I didn't... I-" Peter stumbles.

"I'm an asshole," Roman's eyebrows raise. "But that's actually really low of you. She's helping us, the least you could do was be honest."

"Thank you?" Emma tells him softly. She's in utter shock over everything, but especially this Roman Godfrey being nice thing.

"I'm sorry," Destiny sighs. "I thought you knew."

"Emma-" Peter tries to find the words to explain himself.

"Just take my fucking blood! Holy shit!" Emma snaps, startling the room. "You can have it. Drain me. Are you lying about anything else to me? Or is this even real?"

"It's real, I swear," Destiny nods. "The Ursitory don't lie."

"Do you know how crazy you all sound? Ursitory? Is that even a word?"

"It's a Romani thing," Peter explains. "We all have our predictions."

"What were the predictions?" Emma asks with her hand on her hip.

"I don't know if I should tell you," Destiny says. Knowing one's own future rarely ends well.

"I need to know before we do this. I need to know everything you're not telling me."

"The Ursitory aren't real, not in a physical form anyways... Basically, they're three spirits," Destiny tries to dumb it down it. "They come to babies and give them three fates. One good, on neutral, and one bad."

"And everyone has these?"

"No, only when they are offered gifts."

"What are my others?" Destiny doesn't move. "If you're so sure about it, tell me."

"One neutral, one good, and one bad remember that," Destiny sighs. Emma nods her along. "The neutral one is that you will save two lives, but it won't matter. The good one this that every child you have will be born with a caul."

"A caul?" Emma asks.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Emma shakes her head. "To any of you?" The boys shake their heads as well, but Peter knows what that means. He shares a look with Destiny.

"Is it supposed to mean something good?"

"To some people, it is," Destiny mumbles, pity in her eyes. "The bad one is that you will die under a full moon."

"That doesn't mean it's true."

"Emma..." Destiny trails off.

"You don't actually believe this bullshit, do you?" Roman asks angrily.

"I do," she sighs. "It was true with Peter, it was true with me. I'm sure it will be true about you too."

"Me?" Roman asks. "How would I have-"

"Ask your mother." Destiny hisses. "She's the one that brought them to Emma."

"So what you're telling me is that no matter what, even if we kill the thing, it's going to kill me first?" Destiny and Peter remain silent. Roman looks between the three others in the room, an outsider. "You lied to me," she whispers to Peter.

"I never said-"

"You lied to me," she tells him again.

"Emma-"

"No," she shakes her head. "You lied," she takes a sharp breath. "Let's do whatever needs to be done so I can go home."

"We just need some blood," Destiny tells her. She nods. "Let's go to my room."

Emma, Peter, and Roman follow behind her as she opens her door. She stops Roman before he comes in. "You two stay in the living room."

"Fine," they grumble and turn back around.

"Emma, why don't you lay down and get comfortable," Emma gives her a strange look but does as she says. She watches as Destiny grabs a jar from her dresser and uncaps it. "Hello," she smiles down.

"What is that?" Emma sits up on her elbows.

"A leech."

"Why a leech?"

"Well, it won't hurt as bad as a cut and it's more convenient to keep than a bag of blood," she carefully removes it from its home. "Plus I think Mr. Bloodlust out there might cream his pants if he sees you with an open wound." Emma's face curls his face into a look of disgust.

"Is it safe?" Emma asks.

"Yep, the Victorians used these guys for all sorts of stuff. Pull your shirt up," Emma pulls it up to just below her bran and Destiny carefully places it on her tummy. "Plus, rich white people still do." Emma lets out a light laugh at that.

They both watch as the parasite rolls around until it finds somewhere to attach to. Emma is surprised by how little it hurt- it was more of a weird feeling. "And now we wait," Destiny tries to smile down to her. "We can try to change it," Destiny says quietly as if she's not even sure of what she's saying. "I mean there's no guarantee, but we can try."

"How?" Emma asks. She focuses on the parasite attached to her.

"We would go through the same steps, make an offering." Emma shrugs and continues to watch the leech. In some strange way, she finds it incredibly beautiful how its body can morph to the size it needs to be to contain her blood. 

"I don't know," Emma says trying to bury her numbness to the situation. "It feels useless."

"Maybe," Destiny reasons. "Or maybe not. Just consider it." 

"Okay," she closes we eyes, relaxing to the feeling of the blood being pulled from her. "I'll think about it."

Destiny takes a seat on the bed waiting on the leech to finish. She hopes Emma says no to her offer, she prays to the universe for it. The moment it came from her lips she regretted it. It's highly unlikely that they will change. Destiny has only known two people who tried, one with a baby and one with a child. Neither worked.

But she couldn't sit back and watch. Emma was owed at least one chance, she reasoned. Especially after the lies and deceit. In the end, it will most likely end up in more disappointment than there was originally. At least they will have tried though.

The leech, now full to the brim, detaches and begins rolling around. "Okay," Destiny carefully removes the leech from her stomach and returns it to its home. She hands the jar to Peter. "All done." Emma sits up and pulls her shirt down, stopping to admire the spot where the creature had previously been attached. "What're you thinking?"

"I don't know," Emma sounds dull as she shrugs. "It doesn't matter."

"Think it over," she runs her fingers through her hair. "You've got a little bit of time."

Emma follows Destiny back out to the living room. Destiny hands the jar out to Peter. "Thanks," he mumbles, carefully accepting the jar. 

"You know what to do," she tells him and pats his hand comfortingly. Emma watches from the corner of her eye. She grabs her coat and zips then buttons it. She tries to get to the door without having to announce her departure, but a large hand grabs her shoulder.

"It's dark out, let me give you a ride home," he tells her. Something in the way he had acted tonight, and the way he said it so kindly, pulls at her heartstrings and she agrees. It shows to her how weak-minded she truly is. How absolutely desperate she is for some form of normalcy in the world.

In his car, if she lets her imagination run, she can almost believe it was last winter. The sound of the engine is so familiar, the roads and the image of his absurdly massive hand on the stick-shift carved into her memory.

"I am sorry, really," he disturbs her daydream. "I didn't know or I would have told you."

"I know," she says. Roman would never have tried to spare her feelings like Peter apparently thought he was doing. It didn't work. "I don't know that I believe it."

"No?"

"No," she shakes her head. She hadn't meant to start a conversation about it. He didn't have the right to listen to her opinions or feelings anymore. She shouldn't want to tell him. But in this weird supernatural journey they're on she's afraid he's the only one she can share them with. "I don't know that I believe anyone's fate is set in stone. It's a little... sad to think that my entire life is predetermined. I like to think I make my own decisions, that I have choices and autonomy over myself."

Roman glances over. Something unfamiliar washes over him, something that twists his gut and unwinds then rewinds itself repeatedly. Outside of his sister and cousin, Roman only really acknowledges three emotions: boredom, lust, and anger. He hasn't quite figured out where Peter fits into his emotional spectrum, but he's working on it.

Emma catches his glance and looks away quickly. "I think that's a good way to look at it," he tells her quietly. "What're you going to do about Peter?"

"I don't know," she bites at her fingernails nervously. "Not much I can do I guess."

"I guess not," there goes the twist again, like a spring. He's feeling things like some 8-year-old kid. He's about to ask her why, after everything, she still gave blood but her phone buzzes. She unlocks it and her eyes scan over the text message. From the corner of his eye, he can see the face she's making and little half-hidden smile. It's the same face girls make when he talks to them.

"Invite me in," he orders once they're safely parked in the driveway.

"Come in," she says. He follows her to the door. He smiles as she holds the door open for him.

"Take off your shoes and your coat," he tells her. Emma bends over to untie her shoes and place them along the wall. He waits as she puts up her coat. Once it's on the coat rack he reaches out for her. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he caresses her face with his free hand.

"Tell me who you went out with tonight."

"Alex Rosewell."

"Emma, you don't want to go out Alex."

"I don't want to go out with Alex," she repeats.

"Tell him that."

"I'll tell him."

"Good girl," he smiles. Her eyes stay wide open. He licks his lips and thinks over what he's about to do. "You want to suck my dick."

As she sinks down to her knees, he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe off the profuse amount of blood dripping from his nose. The unfamiliar twist in his stomach has evaporated to be replaced by his natural state. He doesn't feel good about it, but he feels safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Here is part two, I hope you all like it. Honestly, I don't feel too great about these two pieces but they're ok. I wanted to have the photos come into play somehow and I couldn't figure out how to do it so I hope this is at least not the worst way they could have been incorporated. I had a lot of different ideas but they wouldn't really fit in the story, and yeah Roman's an asshole but I don't feel like he would share them on a whim and also he doesn't have friends so who would he share them with other than Peter?


	26. Try to Wake Up

 

Emma wonders about the dreams she had. She has the strangest sensation that they're not just dreams, but memories. It's not unusual to establish something in a dream and to wake to find it was not real, but it felt so  _so_ real. Every day the world seems less real, less reliable. The human mind is such a fragile thing. 

 

.....

 

There's something so surreal about knowing something is about you without being named in it. Despite how immature it is, and how much she doesn't want to care, it stung. She hasn't used her social media since the beginning of the school year, so it's a genuine surprise when a girl they sit with at lunch asks her if she's seen what's going on. Handing her her phone, Emma quickly scans over the screen.

* * *

  
@ AlexRosewell51 : My love life is an actual atomic bomb

* * *

 

                                         @ chocolateE-Clarie : @ AlexRosewell51 Me watching this unfold BC I warned you to not date sluts:

* * *

 

@ Resse_Daves42 A girl would rather suck 100 dicks than kiss alex lmfaoooo

* * *

 

It feels like all eyes in the cafeteria are on her. They're all judging her, staring at her, laughing at her. A wave of heat rolls over her body engulfing it with a dark red tone. Her stomach turns and aches. She hadn't really done anything wrong though, right? When did deciding not to go on another date make you a bad person? Wasn't that the point going on a date?

After she told him that she wasn't interested he asked her why. It's a strange thing trying to explain to someone why you are no longer interested in them when you yourself don't really know why. It seemed to come from thin air. She had apologized for wasting his time and he claimed to understand. It seems like it was everyone else who didn't. 

The laughter probably wasn't even about her, most of this had blown over by the time Monday came around, but she feels hot all over. She needs to leave. Hands drenched in sweat and stomach tossing, she stands and walks as fast a physically possible to the bathroom.

Kim follows after her, Ally hot on her tail. 

"Emma?" She feels at pat at her shoulder, but she ignores it and races to the bathroom. She makes it to the first stall before crashing to her knees and retching up what little breakfast she had gotten down that morning. "Em?" She hears footsteps find her. When her stomach seems empty she sits back, face wet and hair stuck to her forehead.

"Emma, this is like the 4th time this has happened," Kim asks, kneeling beside her. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, I'm just not feeling great," she uses the back of her hand to wipe the leftover spit from her mouth. Someone hands her a wet paper towel but she's not sure who.

"Is there... a possibility that you might maybe be pregnant?"Kim asks. Emma shakes her head quickly.

"No."

"When was your last period?" Ally asks sounding concerned.

"I don't know," she mumbles, putting her head in her hands. She pushes her hair from her face.

"You know, that's a sign-"

"I know what it's a sign of," Emma snaps, head shooting up. "I'm... I'm not pregnant."

"I know it's scary, but you need to take a test," Ally tells her. "I mean shit happens. I think we've all taken one." That's not true, neither of them had taken one but Emma didn't need to know that. "C'mon we can ditch and go get one. It'll be like... like a fun girls trip, right Kim?"

"Yeah, totally?" Kim shoots Ally a confused look. ' _A fun girls trip? Really?'_  Her eyes scream. "It's really not a big deal. If it's positive, I'll get you ice cream to cheer you up. If it's negative we can get ice cream to celebrate. Either way, we get ice cream!"

"Or hot chocolate," Ally adds. "It's freezing outside."

"Oooh, hot chocolate sounds good. Right, Em?" Kim pats her back. Emma ignores them, putting her face back in her hands. She tries to fight off the urge to dry heave but fails. "It's fine, we're here for you no matter what!"

"I'm not pregnant," Emma groans and shakes her hands off.

"You need to know for sure."

"I know for sure," she squeaks before throwing up again. They're ignoring her. They won't listen to her and keep talking.

"Oh Emma," Kim tries to soothe the crying girl, but her dismissiveness only makes it worse. "Please don't cry, it's okay."

"Is it Roman's?" Ally sounds too excited. "That baby's going to be so fucking hot."

"Al, not the time," Kim hisses. "You're going to be fine," she runs her hands soothingly along Emma's back. "C'mon, let's go."

"You're not listening to me!" She blubbers.

"You're just afraid," Ally says. "You need to know if you-"

"I know I'm not because I haven't had my period since like," she starts strong but falters, "like September."

"September?" Kim looks her up and down with eyes bulged. Emma nods. "Did you get birth control or something?"

"I think I'm just stressed, I guess," she shrugs. A loud dry cough erupts through struggles to breathe. "Nothing to worry about."

"I think you're having a panic attack," Ally mumbles, pushing her hair back.

"Have you talked to your doctor? That's not normal," Kim suggests.

"Really, it's nothing."

"How much weight have you lost?" Ally asks bluntly. Emma glares at her as if to say 'what do you mean.' "I'm not blind, I can see you've lost some weight. Your baggy ass clothes can only cover it up so much."

"I've lost some weight from stress, that's all. Just school and stuff."

"How much?" Kim bypasses her excuse. "What do you weigh?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked?" Kim looks ready to keep pushing, but the bathroom door opens to a flock of girls ready to touch up their makeup.

 

.....

 

In their stairwell, Roman and Peter chain smoke and down large coffees. They'd been spending the last few nights in sleeping shifts and waking up every hour or so to do a patrol through the town. The leech comes with them like some strange pet. Letha is concerned, she asks if they're okay, but doesn't push. Having lived her entire life around Roman she knows not to push too hard.

The two boys barely speak other than to ask for a light. The exhaustion and stress of everything had begun to overwhelm them. And the next full moon was right around the corner. If they're lucky, it'll all be over before then. 

Then there was the elephant in the room. An extraordinary beast that lingers between their words. Roman does what he does best, he keeps his head down and buries his problems with various substances. The conversation he had with Emma on the way home replayed in his mind, he was looking for something that wasn't there. An answer or a clue to a question he himself doesn't know.

It's entirely possible that she was right, that possibly Destiny's "prediction" was wrong. Roman wonders what it would be like to be told his own prognosis. How would he handle being at death's door?

Peter feels like shit. Absolute shit. He had always prided himself on being the good guy. The guy who helps you move, who stands up for others, helps others. The kind of guy that steps up to raise a baby that isn't his. The longer he goes without sleep the more these thoughts run through his head. Maybe he's not the good guy.

 

.....

 

Emma stays home from school the next day, and the day after that. Kay thinks she has a stomach virus, but truly she just needed the silence. The beautiful, luxurious silence. She only answers minimal texts. It spirals into a two-night bender of blowing though almost two whole bottles of tequila. 

Late into the second evening, or very early in the morning depending on how you look at it, she decides to make amends. She's drunk enough to not think about it.

_**New Text to Alex:** I'm sorry._

When she doesn't get a response it keeps pouring out.

__**New Text to Alex:**_ I didn't mean to upset you._

_Can I do anything to fix it?_

_I dont know why i feel like this_

_please_

One more shot of tequila down before continuing. She knows she doesn't want to remember this thing that she's already started.

__**New Text to Alex:**_ I'll do whatever you ask me to just make them stop talking about me_

_i didnt thinkn i diid anything wrong_

_whatever u want please make them stop_

_anything_

_im sorry im such an asshole_

_they're right_

_im just some stupid whore and you deserve better_

_you seem like a good person_

 

.....

 

On the third day at home, once her mom leaves, her feet seem to move on their own. They take her to the other side of town. She moves so mindlessly that she's knocking on the door before she realizes how crazy she must look standing on the porch in just sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Snow flurrying down but not a coat in sight. 

When Emma knocks on the door, she's completely unsure of what she's looking for. There's no reason for her to be here, not really. It's an itch, a sadness inside of her that pulls her there. The door opens and a man she recognizes from a few childhood memories answers. "Hey, Emma is it?" Norman asks.

"Yeah. Hi," she nods. "I was wondering if Letha was home."

"She is. She's upstairs, second door on the right," Norman moves over to let her in. She can see why Letha is the way she is: normal. Her parents have always seemed nice, their house is comfy, and it smells like cookies. There are so many photos hung up of Letha, Letha with Roman, Norman and Marie on their wedding day, family vacations. You name it, there's a photo somewhere in the house.

Emma can't even imagine what Norman thinks of her, probably nothing good. He only knew her as Roman's friend that always got in trouble with him. 

She climbs the stairs and hesitates in front of the door. Taking a deep breath she gives it a little  _tap tap_. 

"Come in!" Emma opens the door and shuts it behind her. Letha is surprised, clearly expecting her mom or dad to be on the other side. She's sitting at her desk with her glasses on, hard at work studying for school. Her pregnancy hadn't slowed her down a bit. "Oh, hey?"

"Hi," Emma says back, looking slightly crazed.

"You okay?" Letha asks. "I saw you weren't at school today."

"How do you be good?" She bypasses her questions.

"What do you mean?"

"How do you be a good person?" Emma bounces from one leg to the other, uncomfortable and anxious.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," Letha looks at her so innocently.  _The cunts going to make me say it, isn't she_? Emma corrects herself. Maybe Letha really didn't know what she meant. Maybe this cynical attitude is why she's here, asking for help.

"How do you be kind? Bad things keep happening to me and I want them to stop."

"Emma, I don't think you're a bad person- I don't think anyone does. Sometimes things just happen, it's not a punishment for anything," Letha mindlessly rubs her hands over her growing belly.

"I am, though," Emma says, barely above a whisper. "I've done bad things, I've hurt a lot of people. I don't mean to, I just don't think about it." She thinks about the personal offenses she had committed against the girl in front of her.

"Well," Letha pauses to think, "if you feel that way, maybe make an effort slow down. Take the time to think about how you would feel if the roles were reversed. I always try to think about that before I do anything." Emma nods, accepting the advice but knowing nothing will change.

"How far along are you?"

"Seven, almost eight," she smiles. "It looks like I'm going to have a little Aeries girl. Maybe a Pisces if she decides to come early."

"You're going to be a great mother."

"Is there anything else wrong?" Letha asks, caring as always. "I know things have been bad between you and Roman," Emma flinches, "but you can talk to me if you want. It stays between us."

"I'm fine," she mumbles. Along with not wanting to talk to her, she doesn't believe her. Letha tells Roman everything. 

"You came all the way here for something."

"I'm fine," she smiles softly and waves goodbye.

Heading back downstairs, she tries to make it out the door without being noticed. Both Norman and Marie stand in the living room anticipating her arrival. "Emma, sweetheart, do you have a coat?" Marie rushes towards her, approaching a bit too close for comfort.

"Oh," Emma thinks quickly. "Yeah, I left it in my mom's car."

"Your mom's car?"

"Yeah, she gave me a ride to the store before she went to work," she edges towards the door.

"Are you walking home? Norman will give you a ride home, won't you?" Norman nods along to his wife statement.

"I'm okay! It's not that far-"

"You're on the other side of town without a coat. Plus it's getting dark," Norman grabs his own coat from the closet. "It's our duty as parents to make sure you get home safely." She tries to resist, but they won't budge.

 

.....

 

Emma sits quietly in the passenger seat as Norman drives carefully through the city streets. "Y'know," he says, quickly looking over to her. "When I was your age I didn't think I had much of a future for me." She doesn't know how to respond so she just nods. "J.R. was taking over the business, all of my friends were moving away or moving on, and here I was with no plans. Nothing I really wanted to do. I had a girlfriend that I swore I was in love with."

It clicks with her now what he's trying to do. Of course, she had to take a ride with the only psychiatrist within a 30-mile radius. Emma sinks as far into the chair as humanly possible. She doesn't want a lecture from anyone, but especially not a Godfrey.

"When the summer ended and everyone was gone, my girlfriend left me... I felt like I was just floating. In my mind there was nothing I could do right." he shrugs. "Looking back I know that's not true. After some time I decided to go to school, and I found something I really cared about. Now, I have an amazing wife, the greatest daughter, and a beautiful granddaughter on the way. What I'm saying is- is that sometimes life doesn't go the way you planned it. Sometimes the worst things that happen to you lead you to the best things."

Her jaw feels locked square in place. There is no way for him to compare her life to his. It's almost laughable how little she could relate to his problems.

"Actually," she says breaking her silence. "Can you take me somewhere else instead of home?"

"Where to?" He asks.

"To friends. I have to," she runs her hand through her hair. "I have to tell her something important."

 

.....

 

Emma sits on the couch with a cup of tea in her shaking hands. There's a knock on the door when Destiny jumps from the seat across from her. She rushes over to unlock it. Roman and Peter come in through the front door carrying 3 or 4 bags of ice. "What's the ice for?" Emma asks, growing more anxious by the second.

"Destiny asked for it," Roman shrugs.

"It's for the thing," Destiny tells him.

"The thing?" Roman asks her.

"We're trying a magic thing to change Emma's fate," Destiny takes a bag from him.

"Oh," he looks interested and surprised.

"How?" Emma asks.

"We're just... going to hold you underwater for a moment," Destiny says slowly.

"Hold me underwater for a moment?" Emma asks critically. She quickly looks between all the people in the room for some sort of reassurance. 

"Okay, we're going to technically drown you," Destiny explains.

"No way," the three teens say almost in unison.

"What if she dies?" Roman asks.

"Yeah, what if I die," Emily says, confused yet again by Roman's sudden concern.

"You're not going to die. Well not permanently, but.." She trails off and sighs.

"But what?" Peter asks.

"But if we don't do it you're going to die anyway."

"I don't understand," Emma stutters out.

"We have to kill you so you can be reborn. Then in two days, you'll come back to me and we'll make an offering, like your first one, but asking for a new fate. We need the ice because the colder the water the easier it is to-"

"Why drowning?" Peter asks.

"It's a symbol of being reborn, baptisms and such. It's also just the easiest to be brought back from." Emma's head shoots in Roman's direction. The gears start turning and something slams into the forefront of her mind.

"Your mother put me in that pool on purpose, didn't she?" Emma accuses.

"What?" He cocks his head.

"Your mother drowned me on purpose!"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he looks straight at her.

"You're mother, she let me drown so she could do this. So she could-"

"Emma, I have no clue what you're on about! You sound insane," Roman groans and looks annoyed.

"Children!" Destiny breaks them apart once again. "Stress is the last thing you need right now."

"I don't trust you," she tells Destiny. "I don't trust any of you."

"You don't have to," she sighs. "Here, finish your tea and change."

"Why? Into what?"

"The teeshirt on my bed. That way I can get you out of it quicker, get you warming up."

"Warming up?"

"What did you think the ice was for?" Destiny begins shuffling to her bedroom. "Put the ice in the bathtub and run some cold water," she tells the boys. "I put a pill in her tea, she should calm down soon."

Destiny sits on the counter smoking a joint while the boys do all the work. Peter reaches up to take it from her. The sound of the water washes out any conversation they might have wanted to have. It shifts against the ice leaving no clear surface area. Peter reaches forward to turn off the knob.

Emma rejoins everyone in the bathroom. Her eyes stay locked on the bathtub which is mostly comprised of ice. The urge to run away rolls over her like a tidal wave but she fights it. "You sure?" Peter asks. She hesitates but nods. He holds her hands as she steps over the ledge into what she imagines the arctic tundra feels like. Letting out only a hiss, she turns to face him. Her feet sting and she's still fighting the urge to run. She should be mad at Peter, absolutely fuming at him, but if Emma has learned anything about herself recently it's that she can't stay mad. 

Not continuously anyways. She wouldn't admit it even to herself, but the anger that's festered towards Roman has only grown within her. He's not affected by it.

With one deep breath, she plunges herself into the water. She grits her teeth so hard she's sure they've cracked. The cold hurts, it burns. Destiny gives her a nod before she lays back into the water.

They push her down into the freezing cold water. "Don't let go," Destiny warns. "She's going to fight it, don't let go." Right then Emma begins fighting. The panic of drowning sets in, she doesn't want to die. Not like this, not in a strangers bathtub at the hands of Roman Godfrey.

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, what had happened with Roman. Maybe she overreacted and maybe she had dug her own grave. She was so stupid. It's overwhelming panic and regret. She's overcome with an uncontrollable urge to rise from the water and apologize for everything she's ever done.

She waits for her life to flash before her eyes as it does in the movies. It never comes. Only two sensations alternate in her mind. The feeling of leather on her wrists is so realistic that she can picture what her bedroom looks like. The feeling alone is enough to pull her there. Her hands are numb, but her wrists are raw.

Then another pain overcomes it. It's in her stomach and between her legs. Something is cutting into her, and tearing at her body. She feels so small to the world and alone. She knows she's alone and scared. She wants her mom to come hold her. The pain is overwhelming and she hears a voice, but not what they say.

Then she's warm. The world is so comfortable, she just needs a nap.

Outside of the bathtub, things are not as comfortable. The three holding her down are struck with fear when holding down a thrashing body. Once she stops fighting, the three above her look to each other in a panic. "Is she dead?" Roman asks. Destiny pulls her wrist from the tub to feel for a heartbeat.

"Not yet," she bites her lip. "Almost." They sit there in the dead silence for what feels like an eternity. Time seems to move at a quarter speed as Destiny holds her limp wrist in her hand waiting for the heartbeat to fade out. The boys lighten up on their hold feeling her body still in the water.

"Get her out!" Peter ends up doing most of the work, pulling her onto the bathroom floor. Roman has found himself cowering in the corner like a boy. The sight of a limp body being pulled from the water settles into his stomach and begs to exit through his throat. He watches in a disoriented slow motion as Destiny and Peter maneuver around the body.

He can't piece together what they're doing. It turns into a blur as he stands aside feeling useless.  

Emma coughs up water and more water. So much water that Roman doesn't know where it could be coming from. When she's empty of water, he can see something within her face move and Peter rushes to sit her up. She's barely up when one more cough of water comes up, followed by vomit. So much vomit that Roman really doesn't think there could be a single ounce of liquid left in her.

She slumps back against Peter, shivering and still taking in large breaths, happy to have oxygen again. "Let's get her dry," someone says. He thinks it might be Destiny but it doesn't really matter. "Hey, you with me?" Destiny asks, holding Emma's chin towards her. She nods before the world becomes blurry again. 

"Get her a towel!" Someone is yelling at him. He finds one and brings it to her. Destiny takes it and wraps it around her, arms running up and down her side. 

"She's not warming up," Peter says. Roman is unsure of how much time has passed. Hadn't they just pulled her out? Or had it been a while? Destiny pulls the towel off of her, then struggles to pull the shirt over the limp limbs of a girl slumped onto her knees. He stands feeling useless. "Living room," some motions towards the door.

Somehow Roman ends up with the half-naked girl in his arms being carried to the couch. They adjust her like a rag doll and tuck her under the blankets. Blanket, after blanket, towels on towels. It's calm finally. "Is she gonna be okay?" Peter asks looking her up and down. The only movement she's making is blinking, light shivers, and small breaths.

"Yeah," Destiny nods. "Give it some time."

"She doesn't need to be alone like this," Peter says.

"She can stay here," Destiny offers.

"Her mom would freak out," Roman shares with them. "I'll take her and stay with her."

"Is that a good idea?" Peter looks skeptical.

"I think she might hate you more than him right now," Destiny mumbles. Peter glares to her but accepts that it might be true. "I need to relax," she exits to her room only to return with another joint. Roman is surprised when she passes it to him next.

"Do you think she knows what's going on?" Roman coughs.

She barely does. Sometimes she does. The three others in the room are discussing but it sounds like a foreign language to her. She's aware of where she is, like waking up from anesthesia. She doesn't want to be aware, though. She wants to close her eyes and find the source of the pain. How did she know what the first one was but not the second?

Emma can't recall ever feeling a pain like that. She felt so helpless. Closing her eyes, she can't seem to drift back to where she needs to go. The memory of the pain starts to fade away. It slips through her mind like smoke and then it's gone. All that's left is the memory of having the sensation.

"You think she's good to go?" Roman asks. It's getting late, they'd been there waiting for almost three hours.

"Probably," Destiny stands to look her over. "Just make sure she's warm at home.

"Yes, ma'am," he salutes.

"Okay, come back in two days," Destiny says to Emma but she doesn't respond. Peter nods, he'll make sure she knows. Destiny wraps the towel closer to Emma and pats her back. "You'll be fine in the morning. Let's get her loaded up."

"I'll get the blanket back to you," Peter promises and he wraps one tightly around her.

"No rush," Destiny assures him. 

They try to help walk her to the car, but there's no attempt to move on her part. They're not even sure she knows what's going. Or where she is. It's like trying to convince a limp mannequin it can walk. Peter takes most of the weight and manages to get her the rest of the way there and buckled in safely.

"You want a ride home?" Roman asks before opening his own door.

"No, I'm gonna help clean up and stuff," Peter shrugs.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Be careful out there!" 

Roman waves him off then brings the car to life. Emma's there looking straight out the windshield. "You ready to go?" He asks expecting no answer. He isn't given one.

Further down the road, the silence is sinking in on him. "I think this is the longest amount of time you've gone without talking," he jokes. "Not counting anytime you've had a dick in your mouth, of course." Nothing. There is no one there to interact with. She's just a shell.

In her lap, her phone buzzes but she makes no sign of noticing it. 

Roman pulls the car into the driveway and waits for her to get out. Emma stays seated, still looking straight out the windshield, into nothing. "Oh, duh," he mumbles to himself. He reaches over and unbuckles her seatbelt for her, but it gets stuck on her right arm when she doesn't move it out of the way. Her phone vibrates again. "Emma, your phone."

When she doesn't pick it up he does.  ** _New Text from Alex._**

_No, I'm sorry._

Roman watches as another text bubble is typed.

_I didn't mean for people to talk. I didn't expect things to blow up like that._

Another text bubble "..."

_If it's worth anything I really do understand and I honestly don't have any bad feelings about it. There's nothing wrong with not liking someone back._

"..."

_You've been going through some stuff and I hope things work out for you in the end._

Roman rolls his eyes, locks the phone, and helps the shaking girl inside. He sets her down on the couch and gets to work getting her boots off. Her eyes remain closed and she constantly looks on the edge of collapsing. When she starts attempting to stand he goes into overdrive with the second shoe and her coat.

Once everything is off he helps her up the stairs realizing halfway that it's useless. She has to stop to cough and/or gag. After the third time, he just picks her up and carries her the rest of the way. He struggles to handle her and get the door open but it finally works. Her phone vibrates in his pocket but he ignores it to focus on the task at hand. 

There's another battle with the light switch. Her room illuminates to reveal a place that used to be so familiar is now a foreign land. All photos have been taken down, dust has accumulated on her dresser, and the curtains are drawn. A bundle of blankets laid out on her floor in the corner of her room catches his eye. 

Ignoring it, he sets her down on the bed. The phone vibrates again, then once more. Sighing, the pulls it out from his pocket.

**_Two New Texts from Alex_ **

_I understand if it's not enough._

_You don't have to reply to me, but please text Ally and let her know you're okay._

"..."

_Your friends are really worried about you._

"..."

_They haven't wanted to upset you by asking, but they are concerned that something's up with you_

There are no texts for a minute and Roman rolls his eyes putting it on her side table. He didn't know Alex well, but  _this guy is clearly fucking crazy._ Carefully, he pulls at the blankets under her to cover her with. "Fuck, wash your bedding," he tells the girl with half-closed fluttering eyelids as if she understands him. She's all tucked in and he's ready to go to sleep on the couch when there is one more vibration.

**_New Text from Ally_ **

_Letha called me and said you stopped by earlier._

_She said you were acting really weird and her dad said he's concerned._

_I'm concerned too_

_Hellooooo????_

**_Incoming Call from Ally_** _._ He lets it ring out.

_I know you're seeing this, your read receipts are on._

_If you don't respond to my text or call me in five minutes I'm calling 911._

**_Incoming Call from Ally_**. He sends it to voicemail.

_I'm not joking emily parker. If you don't text me back I WILL call 911._

_I'm not fucking around you are scaring me_

Roman panics and sends back a bullshit text quickly. He can hear his heartbeat in his head as he tries to piece together all of the texts. Things escalated so quickly, from an apology to a calling the police threat. Roman knew he was supposed to stay there, but  _fuck_ his head was pounding.

He has to go. He has to leave now.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whoo. That was a monster to write wow. This kinda just rolled out and now it's a monster lol. I hope everyone is enjoying it and thank you for reading! We hit #1 on the Roman Godfrey tag (on wattpad) this week which so so so awesome. Thank you for every kudos and comment! Honestly, every time I see a comment or vote I get so fucking excited it's stupid.
> 
> Also, sorry to anyone who thought/was hoping Emma was pregnant. I talked at the beginning of this story about how things were based on my own personal experience and one of the things that has stuck with me was that I had lost so much weight that I stopped menstruating. I knew from the beginning that that was something I wanted to include because it's not really brought up so yeah idk


	27. Closest to Me

Emma's throat burns and is raw. The back of her nose stings and breathing is still painful. She can't lift her head, it feels like its weight has tripled. Using all her strength, she forces her eyes open. The curtains are drawn and letting in only minimal light. It provides her with some relief.

There's several texts on her phone and missed calls. She opens Peter's first.

_Text me when you wake up._

_Is Roman still there?_

_When did Roman leave last night?_

_Call me._

Emma squints her eyes. _Roman was here?_ She doesn't remember that. She doesn't remember getting home. She only remembers being cold and the darkness. And the pain. After hitting the call button, the phone only rings once before it's picked up. "What's going on?" Emma asks and soon as she hears the other line.

"When did Roman leave-"

"I don't even remember him being here. What's happening?"

"There was an accident, Em," he sighs.

"What?"

"Apparently after he left your house last night he went home and I guess he uh- he overdosed." Emma feels her stomach sink to her feet. "He's in a coma right now."

"Is he..." she trails off.

"He's stable," Peter tells her. She can hear the sadness in his voice, the struggle to stay steady and strong.

"Okay."

"I'm gonna go see him if you want to come," Peter offers. Emma thinks it over for a minute. It feels like she should, but they're not friends. They're rarely even civil with one another.

"Just let me know how things are." They say their goodbyes and hang up. 

Moving down to her next text message. It's just a thumbs up from Ally. She quirks her eyebrows trying to recall what might have happened last night. Scrolling up, she finds a plethora of worried texts that she doesn't remember reading. She must have read them, though. The best excuse she can come up with is still a pretty shitty one.

_Hey. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Honestly, I was having a bad day and decided to have a drink and I went a little too far. Everything's okay, and I'm really sorry._

_Ok._

She feels guilty lying after having already scared her friend. But it's not like she could tell her what truly happened, that she let people drown her the night before. More than that, she feels guilty over worrying her friends so much. Had she been that strange? Emma doesn't remember acting strange.

Maybe her behavior had been a little unusual, she could acknowledge that. Or maybe they could see things she couldn't. It's hard to recognize that you're not acting like yourself, because to you are yourself. 

Dying and being brought back to life takes a lot out of you. She sleeps most of the day away, after getting out of bed and moving to the floor first. When she wakes up, it's to the sound of her phone buzzing. Peter gives her the update that Roman is still stable and he's home. Olivia had demanded he be treated at the mansion instead of the tower. Over protective as always.

She doesn't get up until it's time to cook dinner. There's no way she'll make it though anything that requires too much attention, but she can't not cook dinner. Throwing together something that could be called a casserole she sits down, out of breath.She messages her temples in an attempt to satiate the monster thumping inside.

"You okay, honey?" She hears her mom creaking down the stairs. "I just heard what happened."

"I'm fine," Emma glances up from the table.

"I know you and Roman weren't speaking, but-"

"I'm fine," Emma lies. "Don't worry."

"I just cannot believe his mother never did anything."

"She probably didn't know," Emma lies again. Olivia was very much aware of Roman's drug usage and while she didn't encourage it she didn't stop him.

"I don't know how she couldn't. He's her child! How couldn't she see something was wrong?" She moves to get plates from the cabinet.

"She's busy, I guess. Running a whole company and all. Roman can be a lot to handle sometimes."

"Still," Kay sighs and sits once the table is set. "How little of attention do you have to be paying to miss it?"

......

Emily Parker has done her fair share of dreading school, most of it has happened over the past couple months. Today was not dread so much as anxiety towards the unknown. Would people greet her with pity over Roman? Would they ask her about him? These were the questions she tried to anticipate answers too. She didn't have them. 

Seeing Ally in the hallway with her lips pursed and arms crossed was not something she anticipated. "Hey guys," Emma smiles lightly approaches Ally and Kim.

"Hey," Kim mumbles unenthused.

"What's up?" She asks them.

"Nothing," Ally says sternly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I told you-"

"I thought you were going to kill yourself!" Ally cracks. She's livid. "Do you know how fucking horrifying that is?"

"Why would you even think that? I have one bad day and suddenly I'm a mental case?" Emma has no rational way to explain herself. "You just overreacted."

"Overreacted?" She scoffs back. "Do you know how goddamn weird you've been acting?"

"I'm not acting weird! Kim, please-"

"I'm with Ally on this one."

"Well," Emma scratches her head. "I'm sorry that I've been acting weird. I'll try and be more normal?"

"You know you've been acting weird," Ally demands. "That's why you're being all secretive and not spending time with us."

"I've been busy!"

"Busy with what exactly? Busy drinking alone? Busy pretending to study?" Again, she's left wordless. "Or busy fucking Roman then acting like you hate him?"

"So this is an intervention?" Emma laughs. "Yeah, let's do that at school, in the hallway."

"That's not-" Kim tries to elaborate but Emma continues on.

"Right in front of everyone! You're really helping me out here, guys!"

"You're being a bad friend!" Kim cracks from her usually kind and calm demeanor. "You've been so self-involved this year and it's getting real hard to stand up for you."

"Stand up for me?"

"Do you honestly believe people aren't talking about you?" Ally looks like she could pull her hair out. "That somehow you're exempt from repercussions? Well, we hear it, and I'm done making excuses for you." Emmas blood boils, and heat rises to her face and she tries to think of something to hit back with. "If you want to self-destruct go ahead, but I'm not sticking around to watch.

"Okay," is all that comes out. As much as she wants to yell and argue this out there is no where to run with it. They're right. Her response stuns the girls as they had expected full on nuclear warfare.

"Oh," Kim replies stunned. "Okay?" Emma nods and walks away. Making her way upstairs to class she feels relieved. Like a weight has left her back. There's no need to keep up appearances now. She finally can be left alone.

"Hey, Emma!" A small girl runs up to her in the hallway. Emma turns to face her. It's the girl from the party. "Can you give Roman this get well card for me? I don't remember the last time I talked to him, but I think I was a bitch for no reason."

"I'm not friends with Roman," Emma pushes her hand away. "And don't fucking talk to me."

Ashley remains standing in the middle of the hallway. Even if she was still friends with Roman- she wasn't going to carry his fan mail around.

 

......

 

Three long, empty days had passed when Emma finds herself back in Destiny's living room. Destiny's moving around in her kitchen and clanking pans. She sits awkwardly on the couch waiting on her to return. "You tired?" Destiny calls from the kitchen.

"Not really," Emma calls back. Her body always feels tired, and her mind is desperate for the sleep she can't provide. Destiny enters the living room balancing plates between her hands. She sets them on the coffee table and runs back to the kitchen. Leaning forward, Emma can see that they're three plates with a different pastry on them. "Pastries?"

"Yeah," Destiny returns with a pill bottle. "It's usually a cake, or bread, or something. According to my grandmother, the sweeter the offer the better the Ursitory treat you. Here," she hands her the bottle. "For sleep."

"Thanks," Emma mumbles taking a few. "How will you know?"

"I'll hear them."

"Hear them?" Emma sounds shocked.

"They whisper, I don't know how it will work with you being older. I've only been around for babies," Destiny holds a hand out to help Emma up. She takes her to the center of the room where there's an opening. "Lay down." Emma does as she says.

"What are they?" She asks, pulling a pillow under her head.

"Like I said, they're usually though of as faeries," Destiny brings her a blanket.

"They're not, though."

"No," she shakes her head. "They're spirits, little balls of energy." Destiny moves around Emma's laying body to form some sort of a circle out of a sand-like mixture. "They don't make mistakes, and they don't lie. Only the mother and the midwife will hear them."

"You're the midwife?" Destiny nods.

"In a way I'm acting as one," she finishes the circle and brings the three plates forward. "The fates cannot be annulled and the Ursitory cannot be bribed, I want you to know that."

"Okay," Emma nods. Destiny stands and goes to the kitchen. She returns with a bottle of wine and three wine glasses.

"I'm telling you that because if this doesn't work it doesn't work. It won't work. That's that, okay?" Emma nods. Destiny places the wine in their spots and stands. "Sleep tight, you have a long night ahead of you."

"What do you mean?" Emma asks hoping to hold her attention a bit longer. With the exception of her mother, this is the most human contact she's had in a few days. Sometimes she forgets how her own voice sounds.

"You'll see," Destiny laughs and retreats to her room.

Emma lays in the dark, looking up to the ceiling hoping to fall asleep soon. If she woke up and things were the same at least she'd know. Waiting for this nice had been overwhelming. When she falls asleep she falls hard.

When she realizes she's dreaming, she assumes she's back in the room with Roman. She's wrong, though. She's in the offie again. Well, not really. It's like watching a movie as everything proceeds. Things become a bit clearer and shapes begin for form into furniture.

J.R. sits kneeled in front of her younger self. She stares back down at him. "What I'm about to tell you has to stay between us," J.R. says slowly. "Do you understand? Not your parents, not even Roman can know." She nods. "Tomorrow you're going to come with me to work, would you like that? I'm going to show you around the tower."

"Okay," she nods.

"You're going to meet a doctor that works for me."

"Am I sick?"

"No," he smiles gently. "You're perfect."

"Then why am I going to a doctor?"

"Just a check up to keep you healthy and safe," he fidgets with his hands. "You trust me, don't you?" Emma nods. 

She's riding in her seat in the back of a car, the sun hasn't even come up yet. She's tired and thirsty but J.R. says she can't have anything to drink until later. The car parks and the back door opens. He unbuckles her and carries her, still in her night dress, into a door and to an elevator. 

He carries her through halls that require passcodes, and card swipes, and a maze of other verifications. The sleepy girl clings on to him with her eyes squeezed shut to block out the blinding florescent lights.

Sitting her on a table he pats her knee. "This is Dr. Pryce, he's here to help you, okay." Emma nods.

"Hi," the doctor smiles down at her. "I'm going to have to give you one little poke, is that okay?" Emma shakes her head violently. "It's going to sting then it will all be over. After the poke you can have something to drink and breakfast. Does that sound good?" She accepts these terms. Her throat is sore and she's so thirsty.

The doctor moves around the room grabbing things from cabinets. "Why don't you lay down?" She does as he suggests and waits for inevitable pain that will follow. Pryce returns and, and as gently as possible, pushes a needle into the back of her hand.

She winces at the pain, but it's not unbearable. Then there's nothing. Emma falls through limbo for an indescribable amount of time. It's not black, it's just blank.

Then there's pain, so much pain everywhere. She wants to scream but can't make any noises. Even with her eyes open there is only darkness. Nothing but pain.

"I want my mama," the hazed girl cries to no one in particular. 

"Your mom and dad went on a trip, but I'm here with you," she hears a soothing voice say from above. "You can go home in a few days."

"I want my mommy," she wails again. The pain is intense, running through her like a flood. She can feel it in her teeth.

"I'm here with you," the voice says again and she recognizes it as Roman's fathers. A hand brushes over her hair only causing more pain. It's acute and it's everywhere. "You're okay, you are doing fine." This does nothing to calm her. "Pryce!"

"Yes, Mr. Godfrey?"

"Can we get something to calm her down?" The doctor nods and walks away.

Destiny is already there when she wakes up. Her body still feels as though it's on fire, the pain from the dream resonating through her a burning into her stomach. She can't move much, every slight shift causes a tearing sensation inside her. "The fates have... shifted a bit," Destiny tells her slowly.

"What do you mean?" She groans out in pain.

"They're the same," Emma feels the air leave her lungs. "But they're different. They've shifted positions."

"How so?"

"The good is the bad, the bad is the good," she struggles to remain steady. "I've only ever heard of people doing this, I've never even imagined this being the outcome."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know," she looks distraught trying to explain the unexplainable. 

"How would that be possible? Isn't it just the same?" Emma wonders aloud. "Why would dying under a full moon be a good thing now?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Emma lays her head back down and closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Why do we dream so much?" She looks at her with weak eyes. "I've never had this many dreams before."

"I told you, it slipped from Roman to you," Destiny begins gathering the now empty plates and glasses. "It woke something up that wasn't ready to be awake."

"What am I seeing? Memories? The future?" 

"Emma," Destiny pats her hand softly. "I don't know what you're seeing. I don't have answers for you."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh!!! We are so close to the end of season one!! Whaaaaat?!?! That's insane!  
> As always thank you so much for all the comments and likes it's so amazing to me that people are even reading this, much less enjoying it!
> 
> Much love!


	28. Flume

Peter sits impatiently drowning in the silence. He's beyond terrified that the boy laying before him won't wake up. Without Roman, Peter is helpless. He feels lost in the world with no one to confide in or share the fear he felt with. The two of them were the only one possibly capable of understanding what the other was going through.

He had reached out to Emma a few times but mostly was only responded to with the bare minimum. He had to find out from Destiny about the shift in fates. He only received a one-word "yeah," text back from Emma. She'd gone MIA. 

Peter couldn't even turn to Letha. If anything, he had been shutting her out more and more with every passing day. It was safer that way. The less Letha knew the less of a chance there was for her to get hurt.

Roman stays in the same position, hooked up to the same machines making the same noises every day. Sometimes Peter thinks he sees him move but then he'll realize it's a floater or a shadow. He can only sit there and wait and watch. Letha sits with him occasionally and Shelley is almost always there, missing the one person who truly cared for her.

One of the doctors from the institute that Olivia brought, Dr. Pryce, said he had done all he could. It was Roman's choice to wake up. Peter scoffs at that. He wonders what thoughts must be running through Roman's head, and if he would remember them when he woke up. He was going to wake up.

 

........

 

Emma is more upset than she will even admit to herself. There's an unnamed feeling festering in the pit of her stomach. When the possibility and opportunity to make amends begins to slip from your grasp it's devastating. Even if you weren't planning on making amends. It's the fact that you will never get to make that choice. 

Somehow the person she wanted out of her life the most has become the person she missed the most. It's indescribably lonely to miss a former incarnation of them. 

The highest of the highs can only provide so much compensation for the lows. And right now? This was the lowest of lows. The way all things had fallen apart at once was overwhelming.

Possibly, worst of all is her inability to comprehend death and loss, whether her own or another's. Having lived most of her life alone with her mother, she had never experienced death the way others had. While Roman had found his own fathers body, Emma knew of only distant relatives that had passed away. She had never even met her own grandparents, only spoke to them on the phone.

Her father's parents had both died years ago. She only found out a year later when stalking through a distant cousin's Facebook. It meant nothing, she felt nothing. What can you feel for someone you don't know? Someone who never attempted to know you. Her own father could be dead and she would have no clue.

The dead girls at school were sad, sure. So much potential lost, the unfairness of it all, but it was second-hand sadness. She had only accepted the reality of it all late at night, drunk and alone. It meant nothing to her in the morning.

This was the only time it had ever meant something. She could feel it down to the core of her bones. She was sad and lonely, but above all else she was furious. Furious that he had left her alone that night to go fuck around, overdose and wreck his car. Furious that he could leave her forever without asking for forgiveness. She wants to deny him that.

Sharing almost every class with him had been hard, seeing an empty chair was harder. 

At school, it's the motions without the act. There's no need to smile and laugh with others about things she felt so distant from. It was her chance to be as self-involved as everyone had claimed she had been. It was never intentional before, but now she wallowed in her own sadness as if it was a warm blanket. How is it possible for it to feel so good to feel so shitty?

At the end of a particularly dreary day, her teacher calls for her to stay after class. She awkwardly waits at her desk while the other students file out. When the room is empty he still doesn't speak to her.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Oh, no," he puts down his papers. "I just wanted to check in with you. Has any checked on you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Godfrey was your friend, correct?"

"Was," Emma agrees.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," her voice holds no indication of the lie she had just told. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, actually," he rubs his chin. "Your grades," Emma swears in her head. "They're quite lower than I was anticipating." He waits on a response from her that doesn't come. "I spoke with your pre-calc teacher and she said you had excelled last rear."

"It's just been a hectic year. A lot of things are happening," she tells him and it is true. Not the whole truth, but true. He seems to accept that and leave it be.

 

........

 

A few days into the week, Peter stops by. It's an unusually late time of night, and she hesitates to open the door, but she does. It's so awkward and silent that all she manages is the offer of a drink. "Water, please," is all he replies.

"What's up?" She hands him the water. She wonders if he even has something to say. Maybe he was just lonely without Roman.

"What if Roman doesn't wake up?" He gives her those big, sad puppy dog eyes.

"Is that all you think about?" She takes a seat on the floor across from him. "He'll be fine. His mom will take care of him even if she has to blow through all of their money."

"She doesn't seem to care for him much," Peter says quietly.

"It doesn't look like it, but Olivia would set the world on fire for him if she had to. He's her most prized possession," Emma shrugs. It's a relationship that she barely understands.

"She doesn't act like it."

"It's because she doesn't love him, she never has. She thinks she does but she doesn't," Emma sighs into the impending silence. Contemplating her feelings carefully she looks up to Peter. "You should leave."

"Oh?" His face shows that he's offended.

"Not my house, I mean this town. Just go."

"I can't, Letha-"

"You're really in it for the long haul, huh?" He nods. "Are you worried you're making a mistake? Taking on so... much?"

"Oh fuck yeah," he coughs out. "I'm terrified. But I love her and it's the right thing to do. I've thought about it a lot, and I want the kid to have a dad- a good dad- and I think that it should be me." Emma smiles and feels her heart warm up a bit. The anger and pain she had felt towards him lightens ever so slightly. At the core of it all, he has a good heart.

"And you're happy with Letha?" He nods. "That's good, I'm happy for you."

"You'll feel it too one day. That call to y'know settle down and stuff. Maybe pop out a baby or two." 

"Hopefully not for another ten years," she tries to give some response. "Med school and all."

"Ah yes, med school." It's nice to sit there in her living room for a moment and pretend that there isn't so much coming down the road. "You're really in it for the long haul, huh?" He laughs as he throws her words back at her.

"Hopefully, if I get in somewhere," she nods. Silence overtakes the room for a moment and she begins to bite at her nails. "Or maybe it'll be like Roman said, who knows."

"I'm sorry about that," Peter's smile falls into a frown. "He can be a real asshole sometimes."

"I'm the last person you have to explain that to," she keeps biting.

"I know. It's just... I feel responsible for him."

"You're not," she replies abruptly. "He's an adult."

"You're right, but- he's just so- I don't know," Peter loses the thought from his mind. "You really don't remember him being here?" She shakes her head. "He was supposed to stay."

"I don't remember anything from after the tub."

"He was supposed to stay and make sure you were okay," he sounds upset. If only Roman had done what he was supposed to do. "I thought maybe you guys were uh- gonna work stuff out. Y'know?" Emma shakes her head and lets out a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, Peter. That's not going to happen."

"Why haven't you been replying to my texts?" Peter asks. She shrugs and looks down.

"Didn't have anything to say." 

"What are you going to do? About the predictions and stuff."

"Die, I guess," she laughs bitterly.

"What about the other two?"

"What about them?"

"They haven't happened," he elaborates.

"Maybe they won't?" She shrugs. "Or maybe they already have? At least the saving lives thing. Maybe I just didn't know I did."

"Spare two lives," he corrects her. "You would know if you'd spared two lives. And I hope you'd know if you'd had a child."

"I don't want to talk about it. And if you don't want me mad at you again you won't ask me to."

"We'll figure it out."

"Sure."

"Why did Olivia do this?" He asks not anticipating a response. 

"No offense, Peter, but this is all folklore."

"It's not-"

"But it is. It's old Romani folklore that maybe is true. Maybe I die? Who knows," her voice grows angrier. "Look, I've taken your potions and had your dreams, I let you drown me, but I'm not going any further with this."

"You know what else is just Romani folklore? Me, I shouldn't exist yet here I am. You've seen it. You know it's true. You said it yourself that Olivia-"

"I don't know anything!" She cuts him off. 

"Why are you denying what your eyes have seen?"

"Because I don't want to die, okay?" The words speed out at a loud volume. "Is that too hard to understand? That if this is real I'm going to be killed and I'm not ready for that to happen." Peter sits and takes it all in. She inhales sharply before calming down. "Just go, go home, go be with Letha, I don't care. Go anywhere but here."

"Em," he sighs.

"I mean it, Peter." He knows she does.

But Peter doesn't go home or go to Letha, he goes back to Roman. He sits in the same seat he'd been in all day and waits for something to happen. Anything to happen. It never does.

 

........

 

There's nothing to differentiate the days from one another. The night is where Emma is thriving. Every night she goes to bed hoping to dream more. There's something she's missing, something that's buried deep. It's the most she's slept in months but she feels less rested than ever.

It doesn't matter what it takes- sleeping pills, alcohol, some combination of the two, she's determined. She knows she's being irrational, it's just a dream after all. But how could it just be a dream? It can't be. The pain was too real, the voices were ones she knew but couldn't place. It couldn't have just been a dream.

It's become an obsession. Any thought, memory, every dream- they all get their own sticky note hung somewhere above her desk. It's a mess at first. None of the notes make sense, they're scattered and incomplete. What few bits of her dreams she remembers are the same bits she already knows.

When she can't sleep her mind wanders to Roman. He must be laying in bed, looking peaceful as ever. She wonders where his mind is, what he's dreaming of. 

 

........

 

Peter knocks on the door and is greeted by one of the servers. Usually, Olivia answers, but he finds her upstairs sitting with Roman. She brushes his hair gently, only pausing to caress his cheek. Peter contemplates turning and leaving before she sees him.

"Come in, darling," Olivia calls out to him. "I don't bite. Not your kind, anyways." Peter does as she says and stands against the wall behind her, afraid to move closer. "When I was pregnant with Roman I knew he was going to be trouble."

Peter watches as a mother dotes lovingly on her son. It's superficial, that much he can tell. The way Olivia's voice rings through the air is almost an insult to him. She doesn't care about him, not the way Peter does. She tells stories about him as if it could prove she loved him.

"He kicked and moved around as soon as he could," she continues with her lips beginning to purse. She catches herself, though, and forces them to be neutral again. "Then when he was born he cried, and cried, and cried. I didn't mind though, he was perfect. He was mine and he was perfect." He wonders if that is the end, but it's not. "Your mother told me a story about when you were born. The doctor cracked your collar bone and pulled you out from her womb?" Peter nods knowing the story all too well. "And now here you are. 18 years later and she still watches your bones crack right apart."

"She's a good mother."

"She loves you very much." Peter swallows hard. He wonders if this monologue has been circling through her head, or if she always spoke so carefully. "You know what we are, don't you?" She doesn't have to look at him for the confirmation, she already knows. "And yet you haven't told him, why?"

"It's not for me to tell."

"You're right, it's not." Olivia stays quiet for a moment. She keeps re-brushing through his soft hair, only pausing to adjust the buttons on his shirt. "Maybe if you'd met him sooner he wouldn't be where he is. He's never been very good at making friends. You're his best friend, you know?"

"I know," Peter whispers.

"Roman needs all the friends he can get right now," she caresses her sons face. Peter bites back a scoff. He's doing a pretty piss poor job at making friends. "I hear that you've taken a liking to my niece?" She already knows that answer. "Letha is a sweet girl. Too sweet for her own good sometimes."

"She's all heart."

 

........

 

_Dream. Dream. Dream._ Emma tells herself every night before bed. She has a bit of time this weekend with her mom working overtime and decides to pull through as much sleep as possible. Last night she had been in the hole again, deep than before.

This morning she had caught a few moments of sleep as the light peaked out from around her curtain. She had been asleep in "her room" at the mansion. She never slept in that room, she always slept with Roman.

In her room, the curtains were drawn, but she could tell it was night out. The door creaks open letting in a hint of light from the hallway. The girl in the bed is terrified of the figure approaching and seeks to dig her way into the bedding.

Emma wakes up before the figure makes it to the bed. It was just a dream, but the fear was real. So real that when she finally opened her eyes it still lingered in her body.

 

........

 

A lamp is shattered on the floor and Peter's hair is a mess form pulling at it in frustration. He's ruined it all. He had to ruin it all. It tore him to pieces to shout at her like that. Letha, poor Letha always getting dragged through it all. She didn't deserve it and he didn't deserve her. Not after everything he'd done.

He wants to go home and cry. He can't. He has to stay here until the sun goes down- just in case Roman woke up. He had to wake up. They had to catch the vargulf tonight.

As if an angel was listening to his prayers, Roman shoots up straight with a gasp. Peter spins around to see the miracle. 

"Wow," Peter laughs through his tears. "I didn't think that actually happened?"

"What?" Roman grumbles.

"The whole 'jumping awake from a coma' thing."

"What time is it?"

"It's been over a week," Peter tells him and slowly approaches.

"Fuck me," Roman sighs out. "The full moon?"

"It's tonight."

"That's why I had to come back now," Roman explains to himself. "We should go." Peter pushes the boy back down as he tries to stand.

"Whoa, whoa! We should get you a doctor."

"Why?"

"I don't know? Complications?

"So what? I check out for a week and now I'm a fucking retard?" He barks at Peter.

"No, you were a fucking retard before that." Roman's face cracks into a smile before returning to its previously concerned state.

"We gotta go," he sits up fully and begins yanking off his wires. "We've gotta get Emma and go."

"You need to lay back down. You just woke up!"

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Roman shrugs him off. "It's going to get dark soon, let's go!" He continues to remove his nasal tubes. When he rises from the hospital bed he sways a bit. "I'm good," he mumbles.

"Okay, Ebenezer Scrooge."

"This isn't what I normally sleep in," Roman hisses.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let's go."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while to update! I have the outline figured out, but I haven't been too inspired but I'm hoping to write a lot this week!!!
> 
> As always, comments, votes, messages, etc., are always welcomed and appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading!


	29. The Wolves (Act I and II)

There's a sound. _BANG_ at the door. It's so loud it makes Emma jump in her chair. _BANG BANG BANG_. She creeps down the stairs almost falling a few times, afraid to alert whoever is at the door that there is someone home. "Emma!" She takes a deep breath of relief when she hears Peters voice. "Emma! I know you're there!" She opens the door, Peter looks crazed.

"Hi?" She looks him over. His clothing is disheveled and his hair is a bit wilder than norman.

"Roman's awake, we need you. I need you." She squeezes her eyes closed trying to not break apart.

"Roman's awake?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the car," he motions towards the Jag where Roman offers her a small wave. The sight of him all better and happy makes her sick. This was his dream come true, the chance to be a hero. A warrior. "C'mon."

"I can't do this, Peter."

"Emma, this is more important than whatever is going on. People are going to die." Emma knows he's right but she can't. She just can't do it. 

"You don't need me. You're better without me."

"Emma, you know why you have to be there. You won't even tell me what happened so I don't particularly take it that seriously."

"Fuck you!" She tries to shut the door but he holds it open. "You're right, you don't know what happened. It's because I don't want you to know what happened. I don't want anyone to know what happened, because it's none of your goddamn business."

"I'm not leaving until you go with me," she tries to close the door but he pushes his way in. "Emma, it is going to get dark soon, really soon. This isn't a fucking game! We can stop it, you just need to be there."

"I don't want to," she seems to shrink. "I don't want to go."

"You have to," Peter sounds desperate."This is it. You wanted to change your future. Want to Destiny to be wrong? This is it, this is the time to prove it."

Emma takes her seat in the middle of the car. Peter is driving and she pushes herself almost laughably close to him. Anytime Roman so much as twitches in her direction she scoots closer to Peter. This is lost on none of them.

Peter drives the Jag as if he's never driven a car before. For a boy like him, he knows nothing about driving a stick. After the car dies twice on the way, Emma and Peter trade spots for her to finish the drive.

The two boys hop out to open the gate so she can pull through to the mill. Peter seems to check on Roman every few minutes, asking if he feels okay, if his head hurts. Roman shakes off his doting and tells him he's fine.

Parked in the middle of the decay, the trio leans back, enjoying a last smoke before the sunsets. They stand their together, soaking in the silence and the fear they all feel. For a moment she sees it. Shining in bright daylight, reflecting straight into her line of vision.

"Where all things are made right. Where there is salvation for all. Where there is unity. Where there is Trinity. Where there is real truth. Where there is divine virtue"

"What?" Peter asks.

"That's what it said, right there," she points to the bare place on the wall. "In my dream, that's what it said. I just remembered it. It's like it was there..." 

Peter approaches the spot she had pointed to and runs his hand along the rough brick. There's nothing there. He looks back over his shoulder to check the sun's location, it's grazing along the horizon and shining into his hair. "It's almost time."

Emma stands back while Peter changes. Roman has seen it happen every month but he's still amazed by it. He stands closer every time for a better look. He crouches over and watches the skin fall from Peter's new form. It's beautiful.

Peter immediately catches a sent. His nose twitches trying to catch on to a path. Roman follows behind him calling out words of encouragement. Peter circles the Jag a few times before sitting facing deeper into the building. The scent was lost.

Emma leans against the hood of the car. Roman falls back away from Peter and joins her. She can feel his glances towards her and from the corner of her eye, she sees him bite his nails. "Can we talk after this is all done?" Roman asks. "In the morning, I'll get you breakfast."

"No," she tells him. "And you look fucking dumb in that coat."

"Em, please-" Roman stops mid-sentence when he sees Peter's ears perk up. His nose starts moving again and he begins walking into the mill. Roman pulls her by her arm to follow him.

"Don't call me Em and I don't want to talk to you," she grumbles, accidentally splashing water with her feet as they hop behind Peter.

"Please." Peter picks up his pace. Still holding on to her arm, Roman tries to keep up

"Ow, fuck!" Emma curses at him. "Stop dragging me. Some of us aren't mostly leg."

"Please listen to me," he begs. They're at an almost jogging speed. Still, Peter runs faster and faster. "We have to talk-" Roman's cut off by the sound of whining. A wolf whining. Roman drops her arm and takes off sprinting. "Peter! Peter!"

Emma tries to keep up with him. They see Peter laying on the wet floor, the moonlight shining down on him. Then there's a quiet footstep. "What did you do to him?" Roman asks the figure still hidden by the shadows. "What is that?" He tries to push Emma behind him, but she fights her way to his side. 

"Ketamine dart," Chasseur's voice calls out matter-of-factly. She steps out into the light, revealing herself.

"You gotta listen to me- you gotta understand-" Roman tries to reason with her.

"Listen to me!" She yells over him. "Do not attempt to make eye contact."

"You-"

"Do not move!" She shouts over him. "Do not attempt eye contact and don't move!"

"It's not him," Roman tries again. Chasseur puts her gun down and moves towards the wolf laying on the cold, bitter concrete. "You have to believe me! It's not him!"

"And how do you know that?"

"Because... I was with him last time. The whole night!"

"You're lying!" She pulls a muzzle out from her bag.

"If you hurt him you're dead!" Roman shouts. "Dead! You hear me?"

"If you threaten me again I'll kick your teeth in." Roman paces quickly dragging the girl he still has in his clutches behind him. He looks as if he's about to scream in frustration when he takes a breath instead.

"Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry," he approaches Chasseur. "That's why we're out here. To get a scent, to track the vargulf."

"Just how much of what you think you know is what he told you?"

"If there's another one tonight- if another person dies," he moves in closer and closer. "It's going to be your fault this time." 

"Roman," she stands and pulls a gun from her holster. A real gun. "This is not your friend. This is not a person. I know it's hard for you to accept. I believe it is for him too. I believe you two came here looking for the monster. I think he did too. Because he can't know that about himself. You can't know that about yourself and continue being a person."

"That's bullshit!" Roman shouts, unafraid of her. "That's bullshit!"

"Do not make eye contact!" The gun is pointed back at him.

"I'm trying to help! Why won't you let me help?"

"Because you don't believe in God!" She aims towards Emma. Roman pulls her behind him again. "Now," she points the gun back to Roman. "Move!"

"Where?" Emma asks. It's not like the mill had anything in it.

"Forward! Move!" She motions forward with the gun the keeps it pointed at Roman. She's watching both of them. They move forward into the barely lit mill where the unknown awaits them. The walk through the puddles and rain until they make it to a door.

"Into the room." She says poking Roman in the back. "Either you can go, or I will drag you." Emma moves, but Roman doesn't. "Don't make me shoot you. I'm gonna be real pissed if you make me shoot you. Don't make eye contact." Chasseur reminds him, and he goes slow but willingly. The room is cold but still somewhat maintained. The only light is provided through the small windows from the moon. When her eyes begin to adjust Emma realizes it's a small control room.

"Why are you locking us in? You have Peter!" Roman asks.

"Because you guys are like the fucking Scooby-Doo gang and will try and get him back. I really don't want to cause a scene with you."

"Can you at least get us water so we don't get dehydrated?" 

"You'll manage." She walks them further and into the small room.

"What about some bourbon?" He asks again. "Or snacks? It's actually freezing out here. Look at her," he motions to Emma, whose skin has grown paler. "She's freezing."

"I'll bring you water if you stop talking." Roman nods, agreeing to her proposal. She shuts the door. The sound of a chain locking around the door echos. She returns a few minutes later, gun held high, and slides two bottles through the door.

"Thank you!" He shouts sarcastically as the chains rattle again. He looks around the room, which is in a better state than most of the building. The floor is mostly clear and dry. "At least it's kinda clean," he jokes. Emma is already sat silently, looking at the floor, knees brought to her chest. He sighs and pulls out a flask from the breast of his jacket. "You want some?" She nods.

Roman slides the flask across the floor and reaches into his other pocket, pulling out a second flask. "I'm always prepared," he laughs to himself and takes a swig. Across the room, Emma has downed almost half of the contents then chases it with water. "Are you cold?"

"No."

"Here- take my jacket," he leans forward.

"I literally drowned in an ice bath," she glares at him. "I think I'll manage." She's cold, for sure, but that's not what's making her look so ill. From the moment Chasseur pointed that gun at them she knew what was coming. This was going to be a long night of sitting in the dark silence with Roman Godfrey. She checks her phone just to confirm her fear: no service.

He doesn't know how long they sit there in silence. He guesses it must have been at least an hour, but it could have been 15 minutes. Time didn't exist in the small room. He thinks and thinks and thinks, building up the courage to speak.

"Emma, please let me talk, hear me out. I know I don't have any right to ask, but please." He says so quietly he's surprised she even heard.

"I don't have much of a choice. It looks like we're stuck here for a while."

"What happened that night, the night I... when I..."

"When you raped me?" She finishes for him, finally unafraid of the word. It shocks her how easily it comes out after having spent months treating it like a filthy word. He winces at it, though.

"Yeah."

"Say it," Emma looks at him. "I want you to hear yourself say it." He can't bring himself to. "Say it," she urges him. "Say what you did."

"I can't," he struggles to get out.

"Why not?" He doesn't have an answer. 

"It hurts to say it." She chuckles when he does answer.

"Oh, does it? Say it." This time she's demanding.

"I raped you." He admits, softly.

"Does it hurt you to think about it?" He nods. "Does it make you feel sick to remember?" He nods again. "Tell me what you did. I want you to hear yourself say it," her voice begins shaking.

"I raped you," Roman looks at her this time, begging for some compassion. He's met by her motions for him to continue. "I came to your house when you were alone, I kissed you, I held you down. You were crying and begging me to stop, but I didn't," he maintains eye contact despite the overwhelming desire to drop it. "I tied your hands to the headboard so you would stop fighting me, and you did eventually stop."

"How does it feel?" She asks, silent tears coming from her eyes.

"I wish I could have experienced the pain for you, and been there for you after."

"Me too," she looks away and wipes tears away before they can fall.

"It took me a long time to remember, fully remember what happened," he admits. "I didn't realize it for a while. I just knew I had hurt you, but I didn't remember how."

"What?" This stops her train of thought. It infuriates her, ignites a fire in her.

"It wasn't really me," Roman says, knowing he sounds insane. 

"It looked like you."

"It was my body, but I wasn't in my mind. That wasn't my mind doing it."

"Okay, who was it then?" She decides to indulge him.

"It was Olivia."

"Your mom?" He nods. " _ Sure _ , Roman. Haven't you already fucked me up enough?"

"You know I'm different.," he looks deep into her. "You know I can make people do things, things I want them to do. You know there's something different about me like there's something different about Peter, and about you. I know things, I see things, and I know you do too. That's why we're all here."

"Is that it? Is that all you have to say? This is sick. That is a sick, twisted, fucked up excuse."

"I can make people do things, and so can my mom. I didn't realize it for a long time, I always thought she was just persuasive and charismatic. She could make us do anything as children, remember? She still can."

"So your mom made you, her son, rape me, her son's friend?" She laughs bitterly.

"I don't know why Em, I don't," he puts his head in his hands. "She's fucked up, and she fucked me up, and I don't know why. It's like she wants me to hate myself."

"Good," she says back coldly. "I want you to hate yourself. I want you to go to bed every night, and wake up every morning, feeling as shitty as I do."

"Em, please- Look at me."

"I can't look at you Roman. I can't look at you and not feel as helpless and as lonely as you made me feel."

"I'm sorry, Emma. I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry that it happened, and I'm sorry I couldn't make it better afterward. I don't know why this happened. You know that wasn't me that night. You know that wasn't me, I know you do. I swear on my fucking life that I would anything to change what happened. Anything." He takes a ragged breath. "And I'm not asking that you forgive me, because I don't know that I could ever forgive me, but I want you to know that I am so, so,  _ so _ , sorry for all the hurt I have brought into your life. All of this mess, hurting you, I wish I could change it."

"I don't understand," her head hurts so bad she places it on her knees. A burning sensation builds in the back of her nose. "I don't believe you. That doesn't make any- no. You're lying. You're fucked up."

"I know."

"There's more isn't there?" He nods. "Tell me.

"I don't think you want to know," he says softly.

"I do," she tells him. "I deserve to know."

He tells her to remember, but she doesn't hear him. As soon as he commands it her brain is filled with new memories. Memories that felt like dreams solidifying into the truth. Puzzle pieces put into place, a fog lifted.

It wasn't the first time he had come to her like that. It had happened before, many times before. So many times that the memories rushing back her dizzy. Some of the memories were positive, ones where she had believed she wanted to have sex with Roman. Others were like the one that had been burned into her memory for months. He'd tell her to forget what happened and leave. Then he'd forget what had happened.

They were so real and vivid that all she can do is cry. It's too much. She remembers the nights, but somehow there are holes in it now that she didn't know existed. Sometimes she can even place what they had done that day. Her head hurts so bad now. All she wants to do is go home and sleep in the pitch-black. It's so real, she can taste him, feel the texture of his shirt, it's so real. It overwhelms every sense and nerve her body contains. It runs a shiver down her back.

"What was it like?" Is all she manages. 

"It was like when you wake up but your body is still asleep, and you're screaming at yourself to move, but you can't."

"Do it to me." He cocks his head. "Make me do something, I want to know what it feels like."

"I can't."

"I want to know." She demands.

"Touch your nose." He says calmly. She does what he says and a trickle of blood comes out of his nose. "You wanted to do it, to do what I said, didn't you? It felt natural." Emma soaks it in and blows her nose into her coat sleeve. It's stained with blood now.

"What did you think happened?" She breaks the silence eventually. "Before you remembered everything, why did you think we weren't talking?"

"I don't know." Roman looks away. "I just knew I had done something bad, but I couldn't remember what."

"You were so mean to me," her voice quivers. "Why?"

"I felt a lot of different things for you," he admits in a gentle voice. "I was angry at you- I was angry that you seemed happy without me. I wanted you to hurt like I did. Miss me like I missed you."

"You thought I didn't miss you? That I was happy?"

"I don't know what exactly I thought. My feelings were so all over the place and they're foggy now. It wasn't real."

"Did you really feel that way, that you missed me? Or are you just saying that to have an answer."

"I feel a lot of different things for you."

"Good or bad?"

"Both," she scoffs at his answer. "I don't have answers for you, I wanted to hurt you and so I did."

"You did a good job."

"Do you think I feel good about this? About what happened?"

"Typical Roman Godfrey, make it all about himself."

"Please don't fight with me, not now," he feels weak. "I'm just as confused as you are."

"How did you find out?" Roman licks his lips and tries to create a coherent timeline for her.

"That night I brought you home from Destiny's- the last time," she nods, listening to him intensely. "I uh... I took you upstairs and put you to bed and I just saw- it threw me off. It felt like I was having deja vu or some shit. Then your phone kept ringing and ringing," Emma remembers all the strange texts she had awoken to. "I tried to figure out what was happening, why everyone was so worried, and I don't know... I had to go."

"So you left?" He nods.

"So I left," Roman plays with his hands anxiously. "I felt like I was dozing in and out of sleep so I did a couple lines to try and wake me up but I wrecked."

"You didn't O.D?"

"No. I walked the rest of the way to the tower. I was beat up but I didn't overdose," his voice has fallen flat. "The front desk called Olivia and had her pick me up. She asked me where I had been, and I told her with you. She said something like... something about how she couldn't remember the last time she'd heard your name. I don't know, she said something and it just- it clicked. I was there again, I remembered everything."

"How did you end up in your coma?"

"I don't know," Roman drops his arms in defeat. The world had not been generous to them with explanations. "I just know I woke up and Peter was there, and that we had to go."

"Where do we go now?" She stutters. "How do we... What do we..."

"I think we're just going to have to figure it out on the way." She nods agreeing with him. "Are you cold?"

"Yeah," she admits. He begins unbuttoning his own coat. "Oh, no. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that," Emma tries to joke.

"Oh," he looks almost offended until she smiles and stands. She joins him on his side of the room, sitting close. "I would suggest we start a fire, but that sounds dangerous."

"I don't think it would be a good idea," she opens a bit in a small attempt to show that he can move closer. He does. His body so close to her stills stiffens her to the core. It feels like an invasion despite her own realization that it's not.

 

 

Fading in and out of sleep is the only escape from the cold. Both are only able to manage a few moments here, and a few there. It's dangerously cold out, and Roman begins thinking that Chasseur was attempting to kill them. There's no way either could make it until morning like this. 

"I'm not okay," she shivers into the night. They had been silent for some time now, huddled closer and closer as the night goes on. "It's not okay." It takes a few minutes of shuffling and buttoning and rebutting of his coat, but he gets there. 

She's squished inside of his coat with him before he realizes her statement wasn't about the cold, or not fully. He wonders if either of them would have cried if their bodies hadn't been trying to preserve energy for warmth. He sees the look of dissonance emerge on her face. He has no solutions to offer her.

They keep checking their phones, hoping for some silver lining of service, but it never comes. 

 

 

She's so cold that she doesn't acknowledge the noise. She assumes it's a hallucination. When the light creaks in from around the door, she slowly blinks adjusting to the new brightness. 

"Roman, come along," the figure calls. She knows that voice. "Let's get you home." Roman helps her shuffle up to her feet. All of their toes seem to be frozen solid, and the tip of his nose is burning red. "Miss Parker, what a pleasure it is to see you."

"What's happening?" Roman asked. "How did you find us?"

"Your mother has Peter at the mansion. You're safe now, let's get you warm." The rest of the mill is still dark and the figure is only illuminated by a dim glow from the flashlight. They follow behind until they get to Roman's car. "Drive safe," he tells him.

 

 

"I know him," she whispers to herself once in the safety of his car. The front window has fogged over from their body heat, and the engines purrs trying to warm up.

"Huh?" 

"I uh- I know him," she furrows her brow. "From my dreams, I mean."

"Dr. Pryce?" Emma nods. Roman shifts the car into drive. He looks far too tired to be driving, she's not much worse. "What's he doing in your dreams?"

"He's with your dad."

"You have dreams about my dad?" 

"Sometimes," she gives him a quick glance trying to read his emotions.

"What's- what happens? What's he like?" 

"Not much happens," she places her hand over his on the stick shift. "I'll tell you what I remember in the morning. I'm too tired now." He nods in agreement.

The car sits in her driveway. He takes a moment before turning the engine over and following her up the path. Once inside, he helps her out of her coat and hangs it for her. "Do you have any weed?" She asks, bent over undoing her boots. He nods, Roman never has a shortage of drugs at his disposal. "I need to- I'm never going to sleep like this."

Once both of them are free of their outerwear, Emma grabs a wool blanket from the couch and makes her way to the back porch. Roman takes a seat next to her and digs through his pockets for his lighter. Once he gets the joint lit he passes it for her to have it first. 

She doesn't take it. Instead, she wraps the blanket around herself stands from her chair. She moves closer to him, taking a seat in his lap like a child and sharing her blanket. Only when they've both relaxed into one another does she take it from him.

They stay on the porch until the weed is gone and their once warm toes and noses are numb again. 

The light switch being flipped awakens the tiny kitten from its slumber on Emma's bed. It yawns before standing up to stretch. Emma turns a lamp on and the overhead off, it's much too bright. Roman looks around her room, eyes settling once again on her makeshift bed in the corner of her room. He had to fix this, but not tonight.

She's embarrassed for him to have seen it. She wanted to look tough, hold up some semblance of pride, but it was broken. He can see it in her face. Facing straight towards him, Emma pulls her shirt over her head. It's the first time Roman had gotten a good look at her while sober. She feels his eyes burning into her.

Her bra fits awkwardly, straps barely clinging on to her small shoulder bones. Her collarbone protrudes out too far above her breasts. They were much smaller than he remembered them being. 

He had carried her after they pulled her out that tub, he had seen the outline of her spine in the bathroom light and Destiny took off her shirt. But now- now in the most intimate of ways- he's forced to see what he had truly done. 

His hands are still cold from the night, and she shivers as he traces the now sharp angles of her body. He wonders if she'd done this to herself on purpose, or if it just happened. It was a question he'd have to ask later. They had shared so much already and there would be time in the future to share more. 

She doesn't know who had approached who. They had been a few feet apart and now here they stood only a few inches. She looks up to him and he looks back down. He reflects her motions to remove his own shirt. They stand there for a while, taking in the sober views of each other.

Everything's different, everything changed. They've changed.

A desire to undo the past and refill it with positive memories overcomes Emma. She wonders if he feels it too. When his arms spread open begging for warmth she knows he does. Cold skin meets cold skin. He shifts her arms so that one hand can cradle the back of her head. They stand there, mostly still with a soft sway, until they're physically stuck together.

They peel themselves apart with a grotesque sound that they share a laugh over. Neither is sure that what comes next is what they want to do, but it feels as though the should. She lets him pull her roughly forward again and into a kiss that's loaded with so many emotions. Emotions that she's not sure words exist in the English vocabulary to describe. It's a complete sensory overload that both succumb to.

Laying there naked on her floor, with only a blanket preventing serious carpet burn, feels so childish. They're buried under old wool blankets and pillows like kids in a fort. There's nothing particularly sensual about it, it's just comforting and familiar. They're alive and safe, for now. They move at such a slow pace that the sun is peeking up over the horizon when she's finally hovering above him.

He moves slowly with her at first, laughing as she attempts to cape a blanket around her shoulders. "What? I'm cold?" She laughs along with him. Now, fully submerged in her, he's less afraid of it. The new memories that had flooded their minds left a filled a gap while breaking open a new one. The feelings and emotions it had left behind were flimsy and untrustworthy, to say the least.

But here, in the present, they're both existing. They had moved from clothed to unclothed, standing to laying, separated to together, without any hesitation. Everything felt as is should, but fear was clawing itself to the front of his brain. What if this wasn't okay? What if neither were ready to make this move?

It runs around his mind, but it disappears as soon as two familiar hands lace with his. "Fuck," it barely makes it past his lips but she hears it. Brows furrowed, she's far too exhausted to maintain a steady pace. Letting go of her hands, he grips her waist.

It's there while providing some guidance, another wave of guilt fills him. With his hands wrapped around her waist, his fingertips almost touch one another. She notices him paying attention to this discovery and frowns. "Please, don't," she whispers into the night. He quirks his head at her. "Don't think about it, don't worry about it," she grabs both of his hands in her own. "Don't ruin this."

"I've done really bad things," she tries to interrupt but he stops her. "Not only to you but to others. I've hurt people, Emma. I've done some really bad things. I'm a bad guy."

"This is it, this is now," she tells him. "Nothing before this, okay? From here on out we're going to be better. Both of us." He pulls her forward, toppling on top of him. It breaks his heart to hear her say that as if her vices even existed within reaching distance of his.

"I love you," he says it first, face buried deep into the crook of her neck. He feels it burned into his lower abdomen- another wave of guilt. Here he is, the root of her pain, begging to be cared for. He wants to be told everything is going to be okay even if it isn't true.

"I love you too," she tells him softly. Leaving a small peck on his lips, she sits up once again. In another attempt to calm him, she moves his hands from her back two her breasts. "Don't go getting all emotional with me, Godfrey."

He closes his eyes and smiles up to her. There was no point to try and hide it- he had gotten "all emotional" with her. Neither could ignore that now the terror was over the true difficulties began.

She grinds with him painfully slow and he forgets his worries- at least for a moment. The golden light from the windows is captivating around her causing even the most indecent of sounds to become orchestral. 

Roman bites down on his always pouting lip. He looks so blissfully unaware of his own actions, mindlessly allowing his hands to wander. It's raw and primal- the built-up feelings of betrayal and pain. Boiling over the edge and finding an outlet in quick thrusts and low grunts. It's not a solution to their problems but it's a distraction.

They're desperate and shameless.

Emma runs her fingers through his hair. It's a sensation he's never fully appreciated until now. Roman feels almost bashful at how soft he's being, looking her up and down. He loves how when she's found a good rhythm she closes her eyes and scrunches her nose. It's a cute mannerism that had been lost in the absence of his memories. 

Some unspoken shame does exist between the two of them. The only reason they are so comfortable is because they had been here before, many many times before without knowing. It felt invasive to know things about each other that neither had consented to sharing. 

She had never, under how own free will, told him that she gets goosebumps when he lightly rubs at her lower back. Or that she appreciates him taking the lead and moving his hand between them so that she doesn't have to ask. He had never wanted to tell her that sometimes  _ he  _ wants to feel small and taken care of. Roman had never wanted to admit that to himself or anyone else.

But the knowledge is there, and it feels natural to use it. When he sees her nose scrunch he knows that his cue. He can feel her grinding deeper, her thighs tighten up. Sleep-deprived and delirious- she falls to her elbows, sweaty forehead pressed against his. A pathetic whimper fills the air as he continues to thrust upwards. Then he seems to slow to a stop.

It rolls over and over in his mind  _ "both of us."  _ He decides then and there that Emma is better off not knowing some things. She didn't need to know about the horrific things he had done on his own accord. She could never find out.

Even with her head buried into the crook of his neck, Emma notices him lost in thought. She crawls off him, ignoring his whine, and lays next to him. "Hey," she takes his hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lies.

"Don't lie to me."

"Em," he sighs. "I'm scared of hurting you again."

"I'm fine, I'm not going to break."

"You're not fine! Look at you!" He grazes her shoulder. 

"Stop worrying," she whispers. "I just wanna know if the face you make when I make you cum is still the same," she tries to mock his voice but can't control her laughter by the end.

"Oh, fuck you," he groans. "Using my own inebriated words against me should be a crime."

"Not your smoothest of lines."

"It worked," Roman points out and finally releases her hips from his grip.

"Don't use my own inebriated actions against me!" She slowly moves but doesn't fully commit. "Could you stop being a lazy piece of shit? My right leg is cramping."

"You had absolutely no problem getting yourself off in that position," he exaggerates his smugness. Her jaw drops and she releases a high gasp.

"Fine," she smirks back at him. Pressing a hand down to his chest, Emma lifts herself off of him and takes a seat on the floor beside. "Have fun getting yourself off."

"Ugh!" He sits up. "Fine, you win this round- but only because the thought of jerking off on your bedroom floor is actually pretty depressing."

His attempt to kiss her is interrupted by the sound of giggles that spread to him quickly. Something about it all made him feel so young and free. It's as if nothing had changed and they were just messing around for "experience." Friends kiss, right?

Once the room is silent again, Emma lays down. The void is intimidating and her bareness is overwhelming. He's still scared of himself. Once again, she takes his hands in her own. His palms face outwards as she places them on her knees. With her palms pressed against the back of his hands, she guides them down from her knee to her lower thighs. 

Roman, feeling a bit more confidant, keeps his hands moving after hers had left. He pushes her legs apart slowly, looking to her for approval. She looks up to him with so much trust and affection. He knows he doesn't deserve it.

Brushing her hair back with one hand, he attempts to align himself with the other. It only takes a few minutes and a couple of tugs at his hair for him to spill into her. Neither had discussed, or even thought of discussing an exit plan. He thinks of his action as another infraction against her privacy and things she had shared before- that she liked it.

 

 

Once settled back into the blankets, Emma turns on music for the first time in months to drown out the sound of birds chirping. She traces the pattern on the inside of his palm until they're both asleep.

 

 

  
_With the wild wolves around you_   
_In the morning, I'll call you_   
_Send it farther on_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! the conversation everyone has been waiting for!  
> It was really difficult for me to decide when to do this because it's such a difficult things to do. I'm not sure Emma would have ever talked to Roman on her own choice. I think she's still quite ashamed of what happened and really desperate to leave it in the past.
> 
> But I digress.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this!! Please please feel free to comment/critique/grammar check me/vote.
> 
> Much love!
> 
> chap title from Bon iver


	30. In the Morning

Roman awakes with a crick in his neck and his arm asleep. He cracks his eyes open to see the room illuminated in a golden hue. A strand of hair gets caught in his mouth, pulling his attention to the body sleeping next to him. Well, on him. Her eyes flutter open followed by two drawn-out blinks. "Hi," he whispers.

"Hi."

"You survived another full moon."

"One down," she smiles, still half asleep, "and the rest of my life left to go." Roman tries to sit up then, but her arm catches him. "No, sleep. Still tired."

"I've got to go get Peter," he reminds her, pulling her arm off of his waist. 

"Where is he?" 

"My house," Roman groans and sits up despite her protests. He hisses at the bitter air that hits him once he's free from the blankets. "I've got to go get him."

"How do I know you'll come back to me the same."

"I know her game now," he pushes her hair behind her ear. "I'm like her. Whatever she is."

"I'm coming with you."

"No."

"I'm going," she says and it's a promise.

"Please stay here."

"Where you go, I go," he tries to protest. "Don't. You know it won't work." He knows she's right.

"Well, let's go then."

"Okay, okay," Emma hesitantly pushes away the blankets to reveal her bare skin to the arctic tundra that's her bedroom. "Fuck Pennsylvania, fuck this weather," she mumbles. Roman stands the rest of the way and offers her a hand up. She takes it but doesn't let go. Instead, she pulls him behind her to the bathroom.

Shutting the door, she moves to the tub and waits for the water to heat up. "Em, Peter's waiting on us."

"And he can wait a little longer," she mumbles, hand under the faucet. "I need to shower."

"Okay, well... I'm going to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen."

"Nope," she shakes her head. "You're staying here."

"Why are you so adamant I stay with you?" He chuckles.

"Because I know the moment I turn my back on you you're going to leave me here," she told tugs his hands forward again. She's not wrong. Given the chance, he would leave before she could tag along. 

He waits for her, leaned up against the counter with a steaming mirror behind him. Every 30 or so seconds her grumbles a 'hurry up to her' which ultimately makes her go slower. 

 

.....

 

"Oh! Hi, Roman," Kay says, taken aback as they walk down the stairs. She's still in her scrubs, seated at the kitchen table with a magazine. She had barely glanced up, expecting to just her daughter. The sight of the impressively tall boy ducking his head as he makes his way into the room shocked her.

"Hello," he smiles back to her. As soon as he's past her eyeline she shoots Emma a look of bewilderment.

"What are you kids up to today?" She tries to play it cool.

"Oh, just some errands and stuff," Emma explains as they quickly zip up their outerwear "Roman," she nudges him. "Will you go warm up the car?"

"Of course," he takes the hint. Once the door is safely shut behind him Kay opens her mouth to speak but Emma waves her down.

"I'll explain tonight. I promise," she'll explain something. Not the whole truth, though. "Roman needs to stay with us."

"What?"

"He can't stay with his mom. I'm worried about him."

"Emma, are you sure? You guys have been fighting for months-"

"Yes, I'm sure. He can't go back there. It's not safe." She borders begging.

"And he's safe here?" Emma nods.

"Mom, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"Okay," Kay agrees. "But he sleeps downstairs."

"Of course," Emma moves past her mom to the door.

"Of course?" Kay sounds inquisitive. 

"That's always been the rule," she shrugs.

"Then why was he upstairs with you?"

"We just fell asleep talking," Emma explains and it's halfway true.

"Emily Elaine Parker, you are a terrible liar, you know that?"

"I have to go, Mom," she motions to the door. She wasn't a great liar, but there still was a lot Kay hadn't caught onto. It was one of the few perks of being a latch key kid.

"Did you hear what happened last night?"

"No?"

"Some girl was found on the other side of the lake."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know, she was... spread out everywhere apparently," Kay sighs. "They're trying to do some DNA tests, figure it out."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Were you here all last night?"

"Yes," Emma lies right through her teeth.

"Please don't leave the house after the sun goes down, don't open the door."

"I know, I know," she tells her mother.

"The same rules go for Roman if he's staying here."

"We'll be back before sundown, I promise."

 

.....

 

Olivia's truck isn't there when they arrive which takes a weight off of Roman's back. He hadn't had the time or energy to decide how to proceed with his life. _On step at a time_ , he'd been telling himself that all morning. _One step at a time._

He parks near the back kitchen door, just in case they needed a quick way to escape without anyone noticing. They make their way in and up the back stairs. Emma asks him where he thinks Peter is, but he doesn't answer. He grabs her hand and keeps pulling her up the stairs- Roman knows exactly where Olivia stored Peter. 

Poor Shelley had been kept out of her room for almost two weeks now. Peter sits in the hospital bed fast asleep, although he has begun to move slightly, a twitch here, and eye flutter there. Roman sits on the sofa. He peaks over his shoulder every few minutes to check on Peter.

Emma has kicked her shoes off and is curled up with her head in his lap. "Told you we didn't have to rush," she says as soon as they enter the room to find him still fast asleep. The minutes seem to drone on forever as they both lull in and out of sleep.

Finally, the noise of the sheets moving brings them closer to the bed. Peter moans and groans, trying to open his eyes. Roman was fully aware of how much the transition took out of him, but Emma was worried about it. When Peter's eyes fully open he tries to sit up. Roman places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down. "Hey, hey," he says. "It's okay, you're okay."

"My fucking head hurts," Peter rubs his eyes and looks around. "Did you drag me all the way back here?"

"Last time I saw you you were down."

"Down?"

"Chasseur shot you with a dart," Roman explains. Peter groans and swears at the woman. "She was going to take you away. I tried to tell her how it wasn't you but-Fuck!" Roman almost shouts. "Fuck.."

"What?" Peter sits up on his elbows.

"I should have been stronger for you," Roman bites his fingernails.

"Stronger?"

"I tried to stop her, I did! But she had a gun, and she locked us in the mill, and I didn't know what to do. Then one of the doctors from the institute shows up and lets us out. He said my mom had gotten you and brought you back here."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah, it's fucked."

"I'm no judge," Peter shrugs.

"Anyway here you are, my mom's nowhere to be found."

"There's more," Emma mumbles. Both of the boys turn their heads towards her. "My mom said they found a body this morning. They don't know who it is, it was pretty gruesome apparently."

"Fuck," Peter pounds his hand into the mattress. "My mom- I gotta check on my mom." He tries to stand but yelps in pain.

"We'll run down to the trailer and check on her," she offers, jumping forward to stop him. They stay still for a moment, eyes locked, her hand on his bare chest, before jumping back into action. She helps him lay back down and pulls the blanket tightly around him.

"No, no," Roman says. "You stay here, keep an eye on him, I'll be back."

"Roman," she calls to him and tries to catch up before he hits the stairs. "I'm coming with you-"

"Help Peter... Keep my mom away from her," he tells Peter before turning to leave.

Emma takes a seat on the edge of the hospital bed listening to Roman's footsteps trail away. "What's uh..." Peter trails off, pulling her from her thoughts. 

"What's going on with me and Roman?" He nods. "I don't know."

"Okay?"

"It's complicated, Peter."

"Yeah, I can imagine," he scoffs. "So it's over? Whatever that whole thing was is over?"

"I don't think it ever will be."

"You and Destiny are so fucking cryptic."

"I'm not cryptic!" Emma defends herself.

"But you are," he laughs weakly. "Listen to yourself speak sometimes."

"I'm not  _ as  _ cryptic as Destiny is."

"Yeah, but she's hard to beat."

"Are you hungry?" Emma asks him. He nods his head vigorously. "I'll go find you something to eat." She starts to leave but hears Peter struggling to move behind her. "What are you doing?"

"Following orders," he explains, finally managing to stand. Completely nude, he waddles around looking for a pair of pants. "I'm keeping Olivia away from you."

"I'm not a child," she averts her eyes. "You need your rest."

"Look," he sighs and bends over to grab a pair of Roman's sweatpants that had been left for him. "Roman told me to keep his mom away from you, so I'm going to do that."

"Since when do you listen to what Roman tells you to do?" She scoffs but doesn't try to argue with him. The sound of his footsteps follows behind her.

"Since he finally said something I agree with."

"Huh?" She asks, opening the kitchen door.

"I agree with him. His mom is bad news, I don't trust her."

"No one does," Emma says. "Take a seat."

She begins digging through the fridge for something to cook the boy. Finally, a bit of butcher paper catches her eyes. She maneuvers it out of the crowded shelve and to the oven. Unwrapping it, she finds to perfectly cut, thick, pieces of steak. Peter lets out a sigh that borders a moan at the smell. "Rare, rare's good," he chokes out.

The steaks have barely hit the frying pan before Peter stands and grabs them with his bare hand. She watches as he ravenously tears it apart, blood dripping down his chin. He lets out a full, deep, moan at the taste. Emma's so engaged in making sure he doesn't choke that she doesn't hear the back door open. It's not until Peter stops eats and looks up that she notices they're not alone.

She might as well not be there, though. Letha shows no hesitation when she runs forward towards Peter. Emma adverts her eyes, feeling like an intruder. When the couple breaks their kiss apart Letha finally notices they're not alone. "Oh, hi Emma?" She greets her, surprised as ever.

"Hi," Emma gives her a small wave back.

"My dad called this morning," she turns her attention back to Peter. "He seemed really worried. They found another body."

"I know."

"What do we do now?"

"Well," Peter wraps her arms back around her and pulls her in tightly. "I guess, we just stand here like this until something else happens."

As if the universe is trying to play a cruel joke on them, something else happens. Something very bad. The sound of sirens and a car coming to a quick stop cracks through the room like a whip. Peter and Letha stare at each other in a panic but make no movements. Emma looks back and forth between the two. "Go hide," she tells them. "Go hide."

"What about you?" Peter asks.

"I'll talk to them," she peaks down the hall where there flashing lights reflect in a mirror. "Go!" She tells them again and the don't hesitate. The sound of running books on the porch scare them and they take off up the stairs. She watches them disappear before taking a deep breath. There's a loud knock on the front door, then another, and another.

Emma slowly approaches the door and cracks it open. "Hello?" She asks seeing the sheriff standing only centimeters away from her face.

"Open the door." He tells her.

"Do you have a warrant?" She asks.

"I don't need a fucking warrant," he growls.

"Go the read fucking Constitution," she shoots back and tries to slam the door. His foot catches it, though. "Don't do this," she smiles at him. "Do you really want one of the Godfrey lawyers down here?"

"Let me in, little girl."

"Come back with a warrant."

"I have a warrant," he smirks.

"Let me see it."

"It's right here," he moves his jacket a bit to show her his gun. He lets his hand linger on it before smiling back at her again. "It says let me in before I shoot you in your fucking face."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't make me ask you to open the door again." Behind him, another cop gets out from the car and comes up the steps to the porch. Emma shows no sign of the anxiety she has building in her stomach. "On the count of three, you can either open the door or we will come in anyway. One," she keeps one hand on the door. "Two. Miss Parker, let us in," she shakes her head. "Fine. Three."

Emma knew that they weren't just making empty threats, she knew they were going to get in one way or another. However, she didn't expect to be left laying on her back with stars in her eyes and a ringing in her ears. She groans and squints trying to see something other than the bright light shining straight into her eyes. Her nose smells something metallic but she can't quite place where from.

She hears running and shouting getting closer and closer. When she finally manages to sit up, she has to lean over and spit out a mouthful of blood. The noises are closer and she can hear Letha's voice. Ignoring a pounding headache and a wave of nausea, Emma manages to make it to the sitting room where they have Peter handcuffed an on his knees.

She can't quite make out what they're saying, it's all distorted, but she sees the smaller cop push Letha to the floor and yell at her. Letha looks like she's on the verge of tears. "Stop!" Emma calls out, alerting everyone in the room of her whereabouts. "She's pregnant!" Stumbling, she finally makes it to Letha. The cops make a crude joke about the baby being Peter's but Emma doesn't hear it- she's too busy trying to help Letha sit up.

"Fuck! Great," one of them calls out when a dark figure enters the room.

"Shelley! Go!" Letha calls out, crying softly. "Go upstairs."

"Shelley?" Another voice from outside the room calls to her. Shelley looks down the hallway and lets a small whimper out. 

"Oh brilliant," the one who had been holding Peter lets him go and pushes him to the ground. The other one laughs and they both aim towards him.

"Roman, you're awake?" Letha says stunned. 

"Stay back!" The smaller one yells. Roman keeps walking forward.

"You have a gun pointed towards your head! Do not turn around!" The other one shouts. Emma sees Peter and Roman share a nod right before he turns swiftly on his heels.

"Roman, be careful!" Letha begs. He keeps a speedy pace towards the cop. 

"Put the gun in your mouth," he orders. The man does as he says. "Uncuff him," Roman tells the other cop.

"Screw you!" He keeps his gun aimed. "What are you doing?"

"If he's still handcuffed by the time I count to three pull the trigger," Roman gives the shaking cop a smile. "One!" The other officer jumps into action uncuffing Peter. "Come here," Roman tells him. He approaches nervously. "Get in your car," Roman instructs, ducked down slightly like a parent speaking to a child. "Take the 79 to the West Virginia state line. When you get there, you can take the gun out of your mouth. And you? You'll punch yourself hard enough in the face to break your nose. Bye now."

The two officers stumble out of the room, eyes wide in terror. Emma can see him wiping at his nose before turning around. "Roman," Letha steps slowly towards him. "What did you do?"

"I just suggested the relocate," he shrugs. "You're not safe here," he tells Peter.

"No shit," Peter laughs. "What do we do?"

"I... I have an idea," Letha pops in.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! thank you guys for all the moments and likes after the last chapter! I was really nervous about it but I'm glad everyone seemed to like it!
> 
> As so right now, it's looking like there might be 4 or mabye 5 more chapters left of this book which is crazy!!! I just wanted to check in and see what everyone thought about me moving on to season two? I'm not sure if anyone would be interested in it, but I do have a few ideas...
> 
> Anyways, as always comments and likes are loved and greatly appreciated
> 
>  
> 
> Also, just in general how do we feel about my wine consumption? Like more wine? Less wine? More, stronger wine, more weaker winer? Should I just move on to hard liquors?


	31. The Test

Roman and Emma follow behind as Letha drives Peter in her mother's car. They drive down a few windy backroads towards the area near Hemlock Acres. They ride in silence. Emma sits back with her eyes closed and an ice pack pressed to the back of her head. Roman had wanted to take her home, but she insisted she stay. She'd missed enough as is.

"So uh..." Emma starts. "What's with the cat? Lynda couldn't take it?" Roman shrugs and doesn't elaborate further.

Letha parks her car next to an old grey bricked church. There's trash and construction tools scattered outside. Emma looks at Roman for some indication of what's going on but he looks clueless. They follow Letha and Peter up to the door where they stop. The cat claws at Emma until Peter takes it. "My dad's going to unlock it."

"What?" Both Roman and Peter ask at the same time.

"It's apart of Hemlock Acres," she explains, quickly looking between the two of them.

"Your dad?" Roman asks.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Roman shakes his head. "Exactly."

Peter and Roman walk off alone under the guise of "smoking a cigarette" but both Letha and Emma recognize their mannerism. They want a moment alone. Emma takes a seat on the steps and pulls herself further into her coat. She doesn't want to be stuck here alone with Letha, who is effectively the reason Ally won't speak to her.

Or at least it's easier to blame Letha than herself.

The boys don't return until they see Norman's car driving up the road. The man looks tired, as always, and shakes Peter's hand and tells him it's good to see him again. "I'm glad you're alright," he tells him. "Letha told me what that mob did to your house- it's a disgrace." 

"The place needed a tune-up," Peter tries to joke.

"And I'm glad to see you're awake," Norman says to Roman. "Letha, you should have told me."

"Sorry. Things have been... a little crazy."

"Understood," he nods. Norman moves towards the door and begins searching through his keys until he finds the right one.

"Uh- so you're sure this is safe?" Peter asks.

"You won't have to worry about anyone bothering you here," Norman assures him holding the door open. "It hasn't been used in three years."

"Good," Roman nods. 

"Roman," Norman calls walking towards the door. "Come give me a hand." Roman follows behind him. Emma doesn't know if she should stay or follow. Looking over at the couple who has quickly gotten themselves comfortable and cuddled, she decides staying isn't an ideal option.

She lingers behind as the two men walk fast. She stops on the porch deciding to smoke the cigarette she had been shorted when Peter and Roman walked off. Emma leans back against the brick and tries to not listen in to their conversation, she really does. But she wants to know more.

"What the fuck is going on?" She hears Norman shout, then it's hard to make out the rest. Given the few words she catches here and there she assumes it's Roman trying to convince his uncle of the vargulf. 

She's not sure what happened next, but both of them take off walking through the graveyard. Emma takes a step forward the pauses, unsure if she should follow. She's not even sure if Roman knew she had come out with them. " _ Fuck,"  _ she groans watching the leave.

 

......

 

"Does your mother know you're awake?" Norman asks.

"She doesn't give a shit."

"That's not true," he shakes his head. "Your mother loves you."

"Keep telling yourself that," Roman grumbles.

"She does, she loves-"

"You don't know half the shit she's done," he clenches his fist. "I appreciate your help tonight, let's leave the conversation at that."

"Roman-"

"No, no. You can keep fucking my mother and I can keep acting like I don't know, or we can have this conversation now," Roman stomps out his cigarette before reaching to door. "Your choice." Norman steps forward to swipe his key car and let them in.

"Um," he points at a staircase, "there's a closet up there on the right with linens and stuff. Just tell Letha to be home before sundown."

He follows the directions to the closet and digs through for a thick enough blanket for Peter. He might need to bring some from home, these hospital sheets are paper-thin. He gets an armful anyways and shuts the door. He almost has a heart attack at the sight of a girl standing in the middle of the hallways staring at him.

Christina Wendall. 

Roman had never spoken to the girl, but everyone knew of her now. Her hair had completely turned white, it had only gotten worse since the Sworn twins' funeral. Even with how little he knew of her, he never liked her. She had told everyone he was evil and the devil during middle school. Then there's her werewolf rumor about Peter... 

"She's not safe," Christiana tells him.

"What?"

"I said she's not safe," Christiana repeats and smiles softly. Her eyes stay wide and filled with fear. "You think that monster doesn't want her too?"

"I don't know anything about that," Roman tries to chuckle.

"The monster doesn't know what moon it is."

"Can I get some meds over here?" He calls after a nurse that ignores him. Something's seriously wrong with this girl. When he turns back around she's gone.

He does feel slightly bad for her. Since her little friends had been killed she'd surely lost her mind. She had probably become paranoid about it all. Walking back towards the church he sees Emma standing on the steps. She's on her third cigarette and has begun pacing. 

His face is still filled with discomfort when he makes it to the top of the stairs. Something about that girl gave him the heebeejeebees. Emma tilts her head and intends to check on him, but he walks right past her. She follows behind him to where Letha and Peter are still sitting and talking. 

"We're going to head out," Roman announces and hands the blankets to Peter. "Get some sleep. We'll be back in the morning. Call if you need anything, okay?" Peter nods and waves them off, quickly returning his attention to Letha. "Make sure she's home before dark." 

They get in his car in silence. Roman isn't sure if he should tell her what happened in the hospital or if he's just overreacting. It really put him on edge, though. Emma's unsure of whether or not to speak. She was fine with the silence, but it was uncomfortable. The closeness and feelings of reconciliation from the night before were long gone.

"Are you hungry?" He asks as they drive closer to town. She shakes her head. "You sure? I'm going to get something. I'm starving."

"Yeah," she sighs. "My head is just pounding."

"Okay," he pats her knee. She apparently falls asleep at some point on the short journey. When she wakes up they're parked on her road and he's gently shaking her shoulder. "Come on."

"I'm coming," she mumbles reaching for her belt. Looking up she's met with a cup inches away from her face.

"I got you a milkshake."

"Thanks," she smiles softly and takes it. Her head feels worse, but once inside her own home she feels much more comfortable. She changes into a pair of sweatpants before coming back downstairs with her shake in hand. Roman eats some greasy fast-food burger on the couch.

"Why don't you go back to sleep for a while? You might be concussed," he motions for her to come closer. He gently rubs his hand over the back of her scalp checking for a bump. He finds a small one and she hisses at the pressure. "Sorry," he apologizes, patting her back. "Get some sleep."

"Okay," she nods, takes a sip of her shake, and lays back. Grabbing a blanket, and curling into a small ball it doesn't take long to drift back out.

Drifting awake, she can hear her mom talking to Roman in the kitchen. Kay laughs at something he says. The next thing Emma remembers is her mom gently telling her goodbye and to get feeling better.

When she wakes up fully Roman's sitting next to her watching TV. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"I'm okay," she reaches back to touch the spot again. It's only gotten bigger. "I can't believe they just- they just came in."

"I don't think they'll be doing it again," Roman smirks.

"Yeah, I think you potentially traumatized them."

"I hope so."

"Have you talked to Shelley? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Worried but fine."

"Good, good," Emma sighs.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I mean my head hurts but-"

"What you did for Peter and Letha was really nice," he interrupts her. "Stalling, I mean."

"I can't believe they didn't get farther."

"Yeah, I mean Letha does have a second person inside her so she's a little slower."

"True," she chuckles. "It's insane. Could you imagine having a child now?"

"Thankfully I can't imagine it." Emma yawns a bit a leans back. "Do you want another ice pack? Or something to eat?"

"Uh- yeah... Yeah, that'd be nice," she nods, suspicious of him. Roman being nice had become an unfamiliar flavor in her mouth. He returns a few moments later from the kitchen with a bag of ice and a plate in the other hand. She nibbles at the sandwich with long drawn out blinks between each bite. "If you were serious about me staying here, I need to get some off my stuff."

"We can go now if you want," Emma offers

"No, no," he shakes his head. "I'll go, you stay here."

"I told you I don't want you going there alone."

"Fine. I'll stay," he doesn't feel like fighting. Instead he let's her finish her food in peace and watch as she starts to nod off again. "Why don't you go to bed?" He asks and she thinks that it's a wonderful idea.

Upstairs, her room smells fresh and clean. She glances around in to see the dust from her shelving is gone and her bed is made properly. "I hope you don't mind, I cleaned a little bit," he scratches the back of his head. "I uh- y'know I don't clean often, so I didn't... I'm sure it's not that good."

"Thank you," she looks back to give him a small smile. "It's nice." Emma pushes back the covers, takes a deep breath, and climbs in. The sheets are much much scratchier than she remembers but they smell like detergent. Something slimy and gross feels like it's growing in her gut.

"Thank you," he says taking a seat at the foot of her bed.

"Huh?"

"For uh- for not telling anyone."

"It wasn't for you," she pulls her covers closer and turns away a bit. 

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." It's the answer and a way to shut the conversation down. She had talked about it the night before, now it was time to bury it again and never dig it up. She had been doing a fairly good job and leaving it underground before that

Roman lingers in her room for a few minutes. He doesn't say much, just sits at the foot of her bed until she pretends to fall asleep. He would never admit it but he had anticipated her asking for him to stay. They'd always slept together, it was the norm. The discrepancy between them is becoming more and more noticeable. He expects them to snap back to the way things were and that just won't happen. She wants it to, but it won't. 

Emma waits until the door is shut and his steps have made it to the bottom of the stairs to move. She patters across the cold floor in her room to the corner she's found a home in. It's sweet that Roman had taken the time to clean her room but she wasn't quite ready to take that step yet. No, she'll stay in her corner for a bit longer.

 

......

 

At the crack of dawn, Roman pops his head in her door intending to wake her up. When he sees her laying on her floor again he feels like he's intruding on something very personal. He steps out and knocks on the door to wake her up instead. He hears some movement and her shower start. 

The kitchen has the familiar smell of coffee pouring out and into the staircase. It lures her in and she smiles softly, eyes squinted at the light, pouring a cup. Based on the slight dizziness it's highly likely she's concussed. However, it's highly unlikely she could get out of school today. After a couple of sips, she notices Roman sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal.

She's seated across from him before she notices it. He's wearing a new button-up and blazer. "When did you go get clothes?"

"Here, eat some cereal," he hands her the box and gets up to fetch a clean bowl and spoon.

"When did you go?"

"Last night," he sighs knowing she won't let it go.

"I told you not to go without me."

"What did you think I would wear to school today?" He slides the bowl down in front of her.

"I don't know," Emma shrugs. She hadn't thought that far ahead. "You should have woken me up."

"And what?" He grabs the milk from the fridge. "Drag you across town so I can grab a shirt. I'm fully capable of doing that by myself, Emily."

"I know you are, Roman," she blinks back an eye roll. "That wasn't my concern."

"Will you just eat so we can leave?" He stands from his seat and moves to her side. He opens the box dumping an absurd amount of cereal then pouring milk.

"I know how to fix a bowl of cereal," Emma mumbles. "What I don't know is why you lied to me."

"I didn't lie."

"You said, and I quote, "I'll stay."

"I did for a while." Emma leans back in her chair, arms crossed. "It's safer if you stay here."

"I'm not just concerned about my safety."

"I'll be fine," he tells her. "Don't you trust me?" He sits there waiting for a "yes" that would never come. Instead, Emma picks up her spoon and eats her cereal.

Walking into school together felt something like the beginning of a teen movie. All that was missing was a fan to blow their hair as they walked in. It was all fun and glamorous until they removed their sunglasses to reveal dark bags under their eyes. Both were indescribably exhausted. 

She can see it from the corner of her eye, a look of anger and curiosity in Ally's face as the walk by. There's such a strong urge for her to tell her friends everything that happened. Emma just wants to have a normal girl to girl with her friends but that seems like a lost cause. It's not like she could tell them even if they wanted to listen. 

Both try to ignore glances during their first period when they sit together again. During second period a guy had taken her seat next to Roman earlier that year. Emma was going to take her normal seat, but Roman did the Roman thing to do in the situation and told the kid to move. No one gave him any problems with it.

 

......

 

The uncomfortable silence last well into the evening and was only broken with petty bickering. Even Kay senses it at dinner time and keeps trying to safely lift it. She jumps around the last few months while still trying to ask Roman about his life, school, his sister. Roman, suave as ever, does entertain her a bit. He diffuses the situation a for a little while, but it leaves Emma looking like the instigator.

Once her mom's left, she excuses herself to do some homework. Homework is a painstakingly long task for her now. It's starting, pausing, trying again, getting frustrated, and stopping- on replay. It's getting pretty late and she's already frustrated when there's a knock on her door. Emma takes a breath, counts to three, then calls out "Come in."

Roman pops his head in first then comes in all the way. The smell of cigarettes lingers heavily on him and she imagines he's been sitting out on the porch for a while making his way through a pack. He stands in the middle of her bedroom with his arms crossed out of anxiety, not anger. He carefully takes a seat on her bed near her desk. She can see him bouncing his leg and looking around before finally speaking.

"I don't want to tiptoe around each other," he admits weakly. "Especially not now, not with the vargulf out there, and with Peter hiding out in an abandoned church... I just want things to be normal again," he can't help but look down and give a pathetic chuckle at the absurdity of their lives. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello!! First of I'm sorry for any typos. I had to pull a 12 hour shift and I'm fucking exhausted but I wanted to get this out tonight.
> 
> As always, your comments give me life and make me feel super good about myself so feel free to leave them! Any critiques/opinions are always welcome.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter!


	32. Ruins

_ "I don't want to tiptoe around each other. Especially not now, not with the vargulf out there, and with Peter hiding out in an abandoned church... _ _ I just want things to be normal again." _

Emma's face involuntarily shows the surprise she feels. Her raised eyebrows fall into a furrow quickly realizing she needs to find a response. Saying things can't be normal again feels incredibly harsh and disappointing but it's how she feels. She stumbles out a few broken sounds before shrugging.

"I'm not tiptoeing around you?" She turns slightly to face him. "Is that how you feel?" She asks knowing full well it's how he felt. It felt like he didn't want to be around her and like he didn't want her around. It had only been a couple of days and it was already clear to her. She knew him too well.

"A little bit, yeah," Roman nods.

"Why?"

"I don't want to hurt your feelings or upset you?"

"That never stopped you before," she chuckles. He doesn't. "Seriously, Roman. Don't worry about me, I'm a big girl."

"I just... I feel like shit, still." It makes him feel even worse that he's here feeling bad for himself. 

"I meant what I said, y'know," she tells him. "That this is it. What matters is what happens from now on." It sounds comforting, and she says all the right things, but his frown never falters. "Hey, bud," she leans closer to him, tapping him on the knee. "You can't linger on it, it's gonna fucking eat you alive."

"You uh-" he starts. Emma holds her breath expecting him to keep going down the hole. "You never told me about your dreams. The ones with my dad."

"Oh," a wave of relief comes over her. "Um, yeah..." Her eyebrows drop low as she thinks through the story. "It was just two dreams, honestly. The first one was when I was doing the thing to figure out where to go, with the potion and stuff. The other time was after the bathtub stuff when I came back to Destiny's."

The vocabulary of describing Destiny's abilities still felt silly to her. Potions, spells, rituals- it felt childish. The rational mind cannot place them in the universe. To an outsider, she would sound absolutely insane, but the two of them are slowly learning to believe the unbelievable.

"What about?" He asks. "What did my dad do? Was I there?"

"You were there in one, but you were like 3 or 4. We were like 3 or 4," she corrects herself. "He was just talking to me." She doesn't quite feel like disclosing everything that happened. Even though it was just a dream, it felt as if it was a personal conversation. One that Roman was not a part of.

"What about Pryce? What was he doing there?" Roman needs to know everything. Not for any real reason other than the desperate desire to remember his father. It seemed terribly unfair that Emma was the one dreaming about his father and not him.

"He took me to the tower the second time. He said that I was going to work with him for the day and that I was going to meet a doctor."

"Pryce?" Emma nods. "What did he do?"

"He put an IV in my hand, then the next thing I remembered I was in a lot of pain. I told your dad that I wanted my mom and he said that my mom and dad went on a trip and that I'd have to stay there for a few days."

"Is that it?"

"He kept telling me not to tell you or my parents. He said that it had to be a secret."

"What do you think it was? What happened?"

"No idea."

Roman nods but he still doesn't feel better. He still doesn't feel closer to her or to himself. The feeling of guilt was not one that was instilled into his childhood. He didn't know how to feel sorry about something. He'd never learned.

Then he feels guilty for reaching out to reassurance. For asking her even more invasive information. It compiles more and more into a large heap buried deep in his gut. There's so much she doesn't know that she can't know. It wouldn't help either of them for her to know.

Emma would be lying if she said a tinge of frustration wasn't burning in her head. She wants to be comforting to him, he is her friend after all. But shouldn't it be the other way around?

The contradictions are a time bomb that is surely running out of time.

Maybe one day they'll talk as open and honestly as they had two nights before. Tonight's not the night for that.

 

........

 

Much to her relief, the next day at school is similar but better than the day before. The ride there is quiet, but this time because of exhaustion. Roman had fallen asleep on her bed while she stayed up studying early into the morning. At one point he had snored so loud he scared himself awake. He mumbled a _'go to bed,'_ then fell right back asleep.

Even though they only have one class apart from each other, they're rarely able to speak throughout the day. Ignoring stares and looks of interest, they remain seated beside each other. No one would care if he wasn't Roman Godfrey. 

In the past week, she hasn't had the time or energy to try and find out if people were gossiping about her, now she just doesn't care. If the students at Hemlock High wanted to discuss her personal life instead of the wild monster on the loose so be it. She had better things to do.

Roman feels very differently. As someone who had heard and occasionally participated before his coma, he feels guilty yet again. It's just another thing he hoped she'd never find out.

In their last class of the day, the teacher is wrapping up the lesson when the intercom clicks on. _"Students and faculty, I apologize for the interruption. The Hemlock Grove Police Department has decided to set a curfew. All students are expected to be home by 5:00 PM effective immediately. This means all after school actives are canceled and detention will take place during lunch."_

A couple of students groan at the announcement. Emma looks over at Roman who looks back at her. Only one thing could have triggered this change.

As soon as the bell rights, Roman is pulling her into the hallway."They're worried because someone was killed," Emma says in a hushed voice. The loudness of the students around them should have blocked their conversation, but they can't be too safe these days. 

"It's because Sworn has convinced himself that Peter is killing people," Roman stays quiet but there's a fit of deep anger growing in his voice. He throws his arm around her, forcing her to walk as fast as him. "And we need to hurry up and get to him before this curfew happens."

"We're adults, they can't tell us what to do."

"No, but they can find out where we're coming from and going to. Who we are going to see."

"Fuck," Emma sighs. "Let's go."

Roman speeds along the winding roads to the old church where Peter has been hiding in. The sky is grey and cloudy, but it hasn't begun to rain yet. It's a surprisingly warm day for early February, and Emma ditches her coat in the car. 

Inside, Peter is fast asleep in a bathtub with his car curled up in his chest. Upon hearing a noise, he jumps up to a seated position. "Oh, it's just you two."

"Don't sound too excited, darling," Roman jokes.

"What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Citywide curfew," Emma explains. "Not good."

"Not good indeed," Peter agrees. "Someone else die?"

"No. Not that they've made public anyways," Roman says as Peter lifts himself out of the tub. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to go see Destiny, she knows way more about the protocols than I do," he digs around for his jacket.

"Protocols?" Emma asks. Haven't they squeezed all the information out of the woman that they can get?

"If you go outside you'll get shot!" Roman shouts. "And that's if you're lucky!"

"Yeah?" Peter snickers. "Well, I'm a lucky guy."

"I thought we still had time?" he asks.

"Beginning of February, that's what Destiny said," Peter reminds him. "It's over."

"It's not over," Roman shakes his head. "We'll wait until next month-"

"What if there isn't a next month?" Peter's frustrated, but more than that he's scared. "What if by the next full moon the vargulf can't turn back? What if it's completely changed? It doesn't even seem to know what moon it is anymore. It's just a matter of time and time is running out! Who's it going to be next? Emma? Letha? I'm not waiting around anymore!"

"Here," Roman holds out his cell phone. "Call her, just don't go."

"This isn't a pizza delivery," he growls. "Also, I have a cell phone?"

"We'll go," Emma volunteers them. "We've got about an hour left before curfew, we don't have time to argue." Peter seems okay with this compromise. As they walk out of the church Peter calls out to Roman.

"Make sure Letha is home and not alone after sundown. I mean it," he says. Roman knows he does.

 

........

 

They're both surprised to see Lynda sitting on the couch at Destiny's. Emma swears she sees a great wave of relief wash over Roman's face. She's feeling particularly observant, looking between the three others in the room. Destiny eyebrows raise upon seeing them walk in together in a civil fashion.

"Hi!" Lynda says as they enter. She and Destiny both have a glass of wine and seem to have been having a lazy afternoon. "How's my baby?"

"Safe where he is," Roman tells her.

"No, he's not," Destiny speaks over him. "What does he need?"

"He says there's no more time," Roman sucks his lips in before releasing them with a 'humph.' "He wanted to come talk to you, but it's not safe. Is it really too- how is this happening?"

"You really have no idea what you are, do you?" Destiny asks him. There's a smugness to her voice but buried beneath is sympathy. Emma can hear it.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Roman grows frustrated. "Can you help?"

"Okay, so first off- Peter has to stop thinking I know everything. I know a lot, but not everything," she smirks. "Second, the laws of magic are like the laws of anything. They work because you obey them."

"So you can just break them?" Roman asks.

"Not the way you think," Destiny takes a seat back on the couch.

"This vargulf can, how do we fight it?"

" _ You _  don't," Destiny looks between. "Neither of you do, this is Peter's fight."

"I'm a part of it," Roman has grown quieter, more desperate for help. Destiny has to help. "Killing it is something I'm supposed to do."

"There are dreams so real you can feel the teeth mark. You can smell the dirt. Feel the pain growing from the center of you," she pauses to sip from her glass. "But then you wake up and there's the smell of coffee. It's not your fight, Roman. You have to accept that." Lynda hands Roman her glass of wine which he gulps down quickly.

"People are still dying."

"That has nothing to do with it."

The room grows quiet, a deep and dark cloud forms overhead. There's something unsaid in the air that is going to escape soon. "So how does Peter fight it?" Emma asks, reminding everyone that she is there.

"The way wolves usually do," Destiny says looking down. She looks heartbroken.

"What more can we do?" Roman asks. "He's had the stupid leech, we've been searching, we've been trying!"

"I lied to you," Destiny admits. "I didn't lie, but I didn't tell the whole truth."

"What do you mean?" Roman asks.

"About the leech," Destiny bites her lip. "It's a real ritual, I promise, it would work under the right conditions-"

"What if we had to use it?" Roman cuts her off. "What if Peter couldn't defend himself."

"I knew that wouldn't happen, that early on? No, no. The only way Peter would be strong enough to even find it would be on a full moon," she looks up at him.

"So now you're going to tell us the truth? Or is there nothing we can do?"

"Peter can turn on the wrong moon, he can," Lynda tries to interrupt but Destiny holds her hand up. "But it's not for free," she downs her drink. "Nothing is for free."

"What's the price?" Lynda asks from her chair.

"I don't know," Destiny admits meekly. "The only person who can find out the answer is Peter."

"Not without some help he can't," Lynda's face tries to stay emotionless. Despite her efforts to cover it, Emma can feel the stress radiating off of the woman.

"I can give him what he needs, but no matter what it's not going to be good."

"Aren't there protocols or something?" Roman asks her. "Or was that a lie too?"

"Oh Peter," she groans, one hand to her forehead. "Peter, Peter, Peter. He should have run."

"You can't always run," Lynda reminds her.

"Fine," Destiny groans again.

"Don't act like we haven't talked about this before," Lynda lets out a bitter and pathetic laugh.

"I said fine." 

She gets to work gathering random objects around the apartment. Emma remains in the corner of the room, but Roman takes a seat next to Lynda. "I'm going to help him through this," he promises her.

"I wish I could go back to when he was a baby," Lynda pats his arm. "If I could I'd live in a whole world of babies."

Roman almost crumbles under the look she gives him then. It's so maternal, so full of trust and hope. She runs his hand through his hair before patting his cheek. It's no surprise that Peter turned out so kind with a mother like her. Destiny sighs and interrupts the moment. She hands Roman a large bag.

Before letting them out of the door she grabs Roman's arm. "Tell Peter I love him."

 

........

 

Roman stops the car in front of her house at exactly 4:58 PM. Of course, no one would actually follow the curfew until someone got in trouble. But, the last thing Emma and Roman needed was to draw attention to themselves. 

 Once in the door, they can hear Kay moving around in the kitchen. Roman follows behind Emma and lingers in the kitchen doorway. "How was school?"

"It was good," Emma watches her mother move around. "They put out a curfew."

"I know, thank God," Kay laughs to herself. "You guys are too young to know what's good for you. Your brains aren't fully developed and you don't know just how dangerous it is." Emma rolls her eyes. 

"I think I know exactly how dangerous it can be."

"Roman," she turns to the tall boy who has barely made a move. "Will you talk some sense into your friend? Tell her to listen to her mother?"

"Yes, Emily," he laughs. "Listen to your mother."

"Don't tell me what to do."

 

 

After dinner, Roman excuses himself to call Peter. Emma begins clearing the table. Kay joins her at the sink to dry the dishes for her. "Everything going good?" Her mom asks her. The urge to peak into her daughter's personal life was never really existent until now. You don't just cut a friend off for that long then act like nothing happened.

"Yeah, yeah," Emma nods.

"How's... Roman?"

"Mom," she stops in the middle of a dish. "Just ask whatever it is you really want to ask. 

"Can't I just want to ask how you are?" She smiles at Emma.

"You sound very suspicious."

"Nope," Kay shakes her head. "Just wanted to check-in, make sure everything good? Everyone's getting along? Everybody's sleeping where they're supposed to be sleeping."

"Ah, there it is," Emma raises her eyebrows. "That's what it is."

"What what is?"

"Roman is sleeping on the couch, don't worry," she lies through her teeth. It's only been two nights but it's still a lie.

"Please don't leave after dark," Kay says looking down at her watch.

"I'm not allowed to, police rules."

"For my own sanity, I have to tell you that. The body they brought in the other night- I didn't see it, just heard about it," her mom shakes her head. "It was disturbing. The worst yet."

"Did they find out who it was?"

"They found some dental records." 

 

........

 

Once Kay is out the door and in her car, Emma makes her way upstairs to find Roman. He's sprawled out on her bed playing on his phone. "I talked to Peter," he says without looking up. "Let's get this stuff to him after school tomorrow and try and figure out what else he needs."

"They found out who it was- whose body they found," she crosses her arms and frowns.

"Oh?" He looks up.

"It was that Jenny girl from the country club- the one y'know."

"Shit," Roman sinks back. "Shelley really liked her."

"Really?"

"Jenny just treated her like a normal girl. She really appreciated that."

"You should probably be the one to tell her. She'll take it best from you."

"I'll uh- I'll find her in the morning before class. Hopefully before anyone else does.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I had planned on updating last night- had the whole chapter written out, then I decided to not do what I was going to do until later so I had to rewrite a whole new one! I'm excited for the next chapter!!!
> 
> Thanks for reading/liking/commenting! I wanted to ask if you guys want more conversations/longer chapters or if I should just hurry the fuck up?
> 
> Much love!


	33. Blood

Roman was too late by the time they got to school- Norman had told Shelley first. Emma had to let him have a few moments to slam his fists into the steering wheel before calming down. "Who gave him that right? Who told him he could tell her?" He keeps repeating it over, and over, and over.

 

.......

 

He's calmed down his anger a bit once school lets out. The car races down the winding road again, both passengers glancing back to make sure they're not followed. They find Peter laying in the bathtub reading a book. He looks up, excited for some human interaction. "Hey."

"We have some presents for you," Roman hands him the large paper bag that Destiny had given him.

"Thank you," Peter grimaces. "Just what I wanted." 

"And we brought food," Emma says revealing the greasy food she had hidden behind her back.

"Oh, thank god," he growls grabbing it and digging in. "I'm fucking starving," he moans with a mouth full.

"What do we need to do?" Roman asks him, clapping his hands. He's ready to get this started and ended. The way Destiny had spoken about it had struck him to the core. No matter what Peter was going to suffer. He didn't have to, but he would for the greater good.

They can hear the crunch of gravel under car tires. Roman runs to a window to peek out. "It's the police," he announces, looking around for an escape.

"How did they find us?" Emma asks.

"They must've followed you guys," Peter looks up anxiously. "I'll hide, get rid of them."

Roman and Emma look to each other for a solution. Further back in the church, Peter finds a hiding spot under a scaffold and some drop cloths. The can hear the faint noise of boots on the stones steps out front.

Emma grabs him and pulls him to a pew near the back. The doorknob turns and he pulls her in closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"What are you two kids doing here?" A mans voice echoes into the chamber. "You shouldn't be here." They both turn towards him, thankful it's not one of the guys from the other night. That would surely lead to a disaster.

"Oh y'know," Roman shrugs trying to think of something. "Just hanging out."

"In an abandoned church?"

"We were having sex, lot's of sex," she says struggling to stay stone-faced. "This is where we go to... uh... to..."

"In an abandoned church?"

"She has a thing," Roman smiles before she kicks the back of his leg.

"Okay," the cop nods uncomfortably. "Well, be on your way, this is private property."

"It's... Technically my property?" Roman tries to sound more confident than he is.

"I know who you are. Don't make me write you a citation, Godfrey. Go home."

"Leave," Roman says gently. "Leave, forget that we were here, and never come back."

"You couldn't have started with that?" She hisses as the officer stumbles out.

"It was more fun this way," he giggles.

"I thought it was more fun that way too!" They hear Peter call out followed by the noise of him shuffling from his hiding spot.

 

.......

 

Emma and Roman are silent as they observe Peter crawling around on the floor. He draws strange symbols on the floorboard, drops some coins, lights the candles. Striking a match, he drops it into the jar holding the leech. Squirming around, it burns to ash. Holding out his hand for Roman's, the two walk a circle around the candles. Peter speaks in incomprehensible words- words that Emma assumes are Romani.

It's almost like she's intruding on something. That this very moment was meant for Peter and Roman, not for her. Then it's over. Peter breaks the moment, releasing Roman's hand and holding his own up high. His face falters as he turns towards the chair Roman had been previously sitting on. He gently picks up his cat.

"Peter, what are you doing with the cat?

"You might want to look away," Peter barely manages to say.

"What are you doing to the cat Peter?" Roman asks. "Peter? Peter?"

_ SNAP _

Emma watches intensely as Peter snaps the cat's neck. Nausea and repulsion overwhelm Roman, but Emma looks on as if nothing's happened. His eyes water on their own and bile rises up in his throat. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna go outside for a minute."

"Yep. That's fine. Go," Peter says. His voice wavers with the trauma he is surely feeling. Roman grabs at her shoulder but she doesn't move.

"Em? Come on?" He pulls at her again but she won't move. When Peter pulls out his knife Roman gives up, needing to exit as quickly as possible.

Leaving her behind, he throws up as soon as he sees sunlight. Sniffling and wiping under his eyes he is shaken by the look on her face. The interest she had. He runs his hands through his hair and lights a cigarette. "Fucking cat."

Only a few moments later, Peter bursts out the door. His body jerks around wildly without any control. He stumbles his way through the graveyard until he lands on his knees. Roman watches as his friend looks up to the sky speaking to no one.

Behind him, Emma slowly exits the church looking lost. He turns at the sound of her footsteps. "What happened in there?" He breathes heavy. She looks him over but doesn't respond. "You just stood there and watched? What the fuck?"

"I don't know what happened," Emma admits in a daze. 

"Well, you watched- you watched..." Roman shudders remembering.

"I know," she tells him. "I know I did."

Roman stands facing forward, unable to process what had just occurred. He sees Peter raise his arms up again before standing and stumbling towards them. Roman meet's him halfway, a cigarette already in hand. Behind him, Emma trails slowly towards them.

"I need something else," Peter says. "I need bacon grease."

"Is that how you're going to fight it?" Roman asks and Peter nods yes. "Is there a price."

"Yeah," Peter smiles a bit and points towards himself. "My face. The price is my face."

 

.......

 

"What's with all the bacon kids?" Kay asks coming down the stairs.

"Oh- uh, BLT's?" Roman looks to Emma for help.

"Yeah, Mom," she joins in. "We're making BLT's for dinner."

"That's a lot of bacon for three people," she points out. The counter has plates stacked high with bacon and even more that has yet to be cooked. Next to the frying pan is a mason jar filled with quickly solidifying grease. "And the grease?"

"It's for a science project," Roman jumps in. They both hope she doesn't ask for an elaboration on what exactly that science project was. Luckily she doesn't seem too interested.

"Well, thank you for making dinner, Roman," Kay pats him on the back.

"Yeah, I didn't do anything. Just sat here," Emma says bitterly from the other end of the counter. Her mother had always thought Roman was a sweet kid. He had never been anything but kind and charming to her. The rest of the town would disagree.

"She's useless," Roman grumbles with a small smile.

 

.......

 

"Cool, cool," Emma says looking at the jar on her desk. All of the grease finally solidified into a grey-brown mush. It looks disgusting. "I never want bacon again."

"Me either," Roman shudders and takes a seat on the foot of her bed. "We're doing this, for real," he clasps his hands together in his lap. 

"Yeah, that's what we've said for months," she sits next to him. "I really hope you're right this time. I don't know how much of my life I can give up," she jokes, elbowing him.

"Ha. Ha," he says sarcastically elbows her back. "You're hilarious."

"I think it's going to be fine," Emma nods. "I really do."

Emma finds it hard to accept that anything could possibly go wrong. The thought is a seed in her head and she keeps pushing further and further back. It wasn't because she wanted to push it back, she emotionally couldn't handle the thought. She was taking everything one step at a time. 

Roman? Roman's having too easy of a time accepting something will go wrong. He keeps his worries to himself, though. The last thing anyone needs is him reminding them of how dangerous this all is. Peter doesn't need him to do that- he's fully aware. 

He gives Emma a half-smile. She looks at him, doe-eyed. He wonders how it was possible for someone who looked so kind now to stand and watch a cat die. Roman liked blood, sure, but didn't find anything weird about it. Watching a cat's necks snap and then it directed was hard to stomach. That was the kind of thing serial killers did. But she wasn't a killer. 

 

They decide to get a full nights sleep. It doesn't really work all that well, but an attempt was made. Instead, they both lay next to each other staring out at distant points on the wall. The silence is comforting and welcome.

 

.......

 

No one had anticipated how quick the gears would begin to turn. The plan was to spend Saturday making one grand plan. Or to try to. Peter explains to them that he knows the Vargulf can sense him and his plans to turn. He says it won't take long for it to find him. Three worried pairs of eyes flicker between one another looking for an answer. Then Roman's phone rings and suddenly they're flying down the road with Peter locked in the trunk.

"I thought we were going to Letha's?" She asks as the car comes to a stop in front of her house.

"We are," Roman pauses. "You're not."

"What?"

"I need you to do something, something more important than killing the vargulf. I need you to watch Letha tonight."

"Roman-"

"She's 8 months pregnant."

"Why don't you do it then?" She shoots at him.

"Because I don't have a fucking target on my forehead."

"So leave her with me? That's your great idea?" Her eyes are wide. "I think that's a dumb, stupid, dumb, idiotic plan."

"I'm going to figure out what she wants and then bring her here. Please."

"No, I'm coming!"

"It's safer this way," Roman taps at the steering wheel. "It's safer for you to stay away."

"It's safer for us to stick together," her voice grows louder. "You don't ever know what's happening, or if tonights even the night."

"I can feel it," he returns to his calm demeanor. "I can feel it in my gut, Em."

"You're so full of shit," Emma scoffs. 

"I'll tell your mom," he says quietly. "Go inside or I will tell your mom."

"You wouldn't," she pushes.

"You know I would."

"Roman-"

"You are safe here- safer here. I'll be back by sundown," he promises. "I'll keep you updated.

Emma sits at her desk, knees pulled to her chest. She checks her phone every 30 seconds just to be sure she didn't miss anything. She didn't. There's a lot she could be doing to fill her time, but anytime she tries to distract herself she gets even more stressed.

Watching the clouds move from her window, it startles her to hear the vibration of her phone. "What's happening?" She asks without saying hello.

"Christina Wendall is here," Roman says in a hushed voice. 

"What? Why?"

"I'm not sure, but we're trying to figure out what to do with her. We might have to relocate."

"Where?"

"Just- just stay put for now. I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you."

The clock continues to move at a painfully slow pace. Every tick is a second closer to the sun setting. There's still time, a good amount of time. How long would it take Roman?

The doorbell rings followed by a loud knocking. Emma moves down the stairs slowly. It's not Roman- no Roman would let himself it. Peaking through the window her back begins to relax at the sight of Norman Godfrey.

"Roman called," he says politely. "He asked me to come get you and meet him, Peter, and Letha at the mill."

"Oh?" She tilts her head and pulls her phone out from her pocket. "Why didn't he call me?"

"He said it was important."

"What happened to Christina?"

"Christina?" He asks.

"Yeah, Wendall. She was with them?"

"Well, I'm sure she's at the mill with them," he smiles softly. "Let's go."

She trusted him. This was Letha's dad who had helped them hide Peter. He knew the truth about Peter. He knew everything. Of course, he did.

That's why she sat so quietly on the car ride to the mill. That's why she doesn't question why Roman's car isn't there yet. And that's why she's so confused when he wanders off leaving her alone with only the setting sun for light.

"Where is everyone?" Emma asks. It echos loudly off the moist walls and high ceilings. It bounces straight back into her face and her face alone. "Roman?" She moves forward into the building. "Roman?"

The only response is her own voice and the repetitive sound of water dripping. "Please help," a voice croaks out from around a corner.

"Mr. Godfrey?" She calls out. There's no response. "Norman?" This time the only response is a pained moan. She follows the sound with haste expecting to see one of her friends there hurt. It's not a friend.

Emma lets out a small shriek, only to be muffled by throwing her hand over her mouth. The sight is gruesome. "Help," the corpse says. Surely the woman must be dead. Whines keep barely escaping her lips. Emma backs away to the door slowly. "Help."

"I... I don't know how," she shakes her head. Taking a gulp, she moves closer to the bloody mess on the floor and kneels next to her. Chasseurs face is left relatively intact. It's paler than it should be and her eyes are sunken in.

"I knew you were like them," she shivers, lacking protection from nature. "I wasn't sure, but I see it clearly now. I can hear God whispering it to me."

"Like who?" Emma asks. Her eyes linger close on to Chasseurs body. It's not complete, but the skin on her chest has been peeled leaving only a dark red mush below. A fly lands on her and walks around. Chasseur doesn't seem to notice or feel anything, most likely in shock.

 "Your friends. I should have killed you all that night. Ended it then. But I wanted to be good and so I let you go," she releases a small wheeze. "Do the same for me."

"I have no sympathy for you," she tells her calmly.

"God will punish you!" She croaks through frigid whines.

"God's not real," Emma shakes her head. "If he was you wouldn't be here. Flayed and dying."

"I'm loving this," Olivia's silky voice calls into the empty room, heels clicking. She stops a few feet behind Emma. She can feel the giddiness and energy radiating from Olivia's body.

"I know what you did, everything," Emma doesn't remove her eyes Chasseur's fleshless body. "I know what you made Roman do."

"I hope you know it was nothing personal, dear. If it's any comfort, he wasn't supposed to be so rough about it." Olivia's heels click sharply as she gets closer. She leans down over Emma's shoulder and speaks quieter. "You and I aren't that different, you know?" Emma fights the urge to look at her.

"Where's Roman?"

"He's safe, I promise," Olivia says sweetly. "He's much stronger than he thinks he is."

"Why am I here?"

"I brought you here to kill her. I know you'd like to. We think alike," Olivia reiterates.

"I'm not going to kill her," she shakes her head. Another fly lands on Chasseurs chest.

"I thought you'd at least be thankful for your present," Olivias clicks her tongue in annoyance. 

"My present?"

"Yes. I thought it would be cleansing for you to kill her. After all, everything is her fault. If she hadn't of come here nothing bad would have happened. You, Peter, and Roman could have figured it out all on your own." Emma looks away to the wall, unable to stand the pained look on the flayed woman's face. 

"I'm not going to kill her," Emma shakes her head. The movement against the air makes her realize there are wet streaks across her face.

"She wanted to kill Peter, remember? You love him, don't you?" The distinct click comes closer and closer until it's right next to her. In the silence, even the fabric of Olivia's dress moving as she kneels next to her is an explosion. "It's so _cute_ to see little girls fall in love."

"Stop," she shakes her head again. This time it's met with the placing of a small knife in her hand.

"Did you know that the Celts believed every god wanted a different form of sacrifice. Some preferred hanging, or burning, or decapitation. For everything gained something must be lost," her words sound distant and unreal. She only drifts further and further away the more she speaks, the tide keeps pushing in. 

She won't do it. Nothing is relieving about more death and pain. Chasseur will die on her own soon, the human body can only withstand so much pain and shock. "Emma," a voice calls out to her from the fog. Her eyes wander, their lids growing heavy, to the source. "Would you hurt another person if it meant helping those you love?" Olivia asks grasping her hand. 

Her mind screams for her to look away before she's given an instruction she can't refuse. The eyes meeting her own aren't filled with malice, instead, they are deviant. They are wise and ruthless. "No," Emma whispers, still unable to look away. "No."

"I take it back," her eyes grow darker. "You're more like Roman's father than me." Her hand grows lighter as the knife is removed. The distinct, metallic cut is followed by a short gasp and trickling. "See, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

A ripple runs through Emma's chest and out her mouth. She's crying harder than she realized. Months of anguish and death are all concentrated into this one moment. The smell of rot overwhelms her senses so much that it is blinding. "I know Roman's convinced you otherwise, but I do respect your perseverance. I think you might love my son almost as much as I do. Isn't that sweet?"

She opens her mouth to respond but only a gag erupts. Given everything, she should be angry. She should yell, and kick, and scream. Instead, she just feels pitiful.

"Oh, please don't cry, darling," Olivia scoots in closer behind Emma and plays with her hair. "I hate to see you cry. You've done such a good job. It's a shame things didn't work out how I intended them to because now I have to figure out a way to fix it, and I'm afraid this time might be a bit more permanent."

"Why?" Emma shakes, disgusted by the contact. "What for?"

"Don't play dumb, dear. It doesn't suit you well," Olivia moves a hand from her hair and places it on Emma's stomach. "That gypsy bitch told you. Clearly, things didn't work out as planned, so I had to outsource it."

"Why am I here?" She cries. "I want to go home."

"You can go home soon." The world blurs and Olivias voice is drowned out. It feels like she's underwater. Instead of sunlight, the only way to tell which way is up is by the dark red liquid running on the floor towards her. "Let's get you out of here, and out of that bloody clothing. Pryce, please take care of that. I need to find my son."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public apology for how bad this chapter was. I was really struggling to get it out but i guess this is fine.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I love all of your comments and likes!


	34. Slow and Steady

Do you ever forget how you got somewhere? Like your mind knows you made that walk, took that cab, drove that car. It knows the exact path you took but the memory of taking it is gone. Suddenly you are somewhere new

She stays still, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking into the darkness until her eyes are drooping and her head hurts too much to stay awake. The room is vaguely familiar like it's from a dream or deja vu.

A chill brushes through the air and the duvet feels so soft. The only solution is to climb under the soft cotton and warmth. Sleep doesn't take long to come.

The next thing she knows there is soft light peeking through the windows. She's in Roman's bedroom alone wearing a set of his "Ebenezer Scrooge" pajamas. Even tied with a tight knot they are too loose. The memory of changing into them is vague and faded but it exists.

Laying in bed now, she feels like the first one to rise at a slumber party. She's unsure of whether she should get up, and if she does get up where does she go? Her cell phone is nowhere in sight and what meets her downstairs is a mystery. Maybe if she stays put long enough something will happen.

Even though she's no longer tired she falls in and out of consciousness until a voice calls for her. It's Roman, who luckily takes action then asks questions. It's not until they're locked in the safety of her bedroom that she hears the whole story- and that everyone is safe. Almost everyone.

It's strange how easily things snap back to normal when Peter returns to school. His life is pretty much the way it had been before. Emotionally, he's quite a bit drained and the school quietly mourns the last vargulf victim. It will be a while before everyone realizes she is the last.

While things are much more normal for Emma, she's had difficulty finding her way back into the group. Roman, clearly distraught from losing Shelley, is distant as well. He's doing his best to keep up appearances, though. He's trying to act like some version of himself that Emma doesn't recognize. Probably a version that was created during the past few months.

She knows he's using again- he's not even trying to hide it. Emma supposes he never really stopped, only took a break after his coma. Then there was his other bad habit. Over the past few years, she'd seen Roman make his way around with the ladies, but this was different. He was being nicer to them? She notices this one day after school when he told her he couldn't give her a ride. 

There was no need to ask why- she along with everyone else at school knew why. Then he says something truly jaw-dropping. He tells her that he is taking the girl, whatever her name was, to go get coffee, then to "literally break her headboard." It strikes her as odd that one: he had completely ditched their dinner plans and two: was buying the girl a coffee before. Looking at the girl one more time, Emma surmises that this was the kind of girl Roman would normally fuck in the parking lot then leave her to walk home. Yes, it's very odd indeed.

Any comments she has she keeps to herself. If she tried to explain to someone what she was thinking they would say she sounded jealous. That wasn't it, she thinks. It's something concerning and confusing that rattles her brain. It's a good change. She should be happy that he's not being such an asshole anymore, but she's not. It feels like he changed without her.

Despite all of that, they're better, that's for sure. There isn't exactly a self-help book for the complex experiences they had. The only thing that had on their side was their shared stubbornness. They'd surprisingly been following her moms rule of Roman sleeping on the couch. That was a rule that even Kay herself knew was broken.

Now, at some point in the day Emma just wants to be left alone. She's not sure if Roman feels the same way, but she wants some privacy. He almost looks hurt when she says she's going to bed and makes it clear it's time for him to leave. It's foreign in a friendship where during the summer whole weeks had been spent together with no time apart.

In a world where sleeping alone, eating lunch alone, and studying alone had become the norm any interaction was draining. The strangest thing is that in the evenings when she would do her homework or read, he wouldn't speak. Roman would sit on her bed, playing on his phone, not bothering her a bit. It was the presence of another person in what had become a safe place of solitude was uncomfortable.

Riding home from school that Friday, Emma cracks her window a bit. It seems like they're finally out of the deepest of winters. It's a gloriously warm early March day. "Scotty's throwing something tonight, apparently," Roman glances over to her.

"Oh?" She tries to act a little interested.

"Yeah. I was thinking about going. Might be good to do something, I guess," he shrugs. She's not particularly interested in going out, especially not to Scotty's. Overriding that is her fear of letting Roman go alone.

"Yeah, for sure."

After dinner, Emma drags herself upstairs to study before doing her makeup. Roman stays downstairs and cleans up from dinner. Halfway through her notes, she hears her mom call out a goodbye followed by her car engine turning on. She changes into something less frumpy for the evening, leaving her shirt off to do her hair.

Even though her door is shut, Roman barges right in and flops back onto her bed. Emma whips her head towards him, clearly offended by the unwelcome entrance. He lifts his head up far enough to look at her then down at her bralette. Ignoring the scowl on her face, says "I can see your nipples."

"Oh god, not nipples," she rolls her eyes. "If I didn't know better I would assume you were a virgin."

"It's only funny because it's you." Emma doesn't understand what that means, and maybe Roman doesn't either. With no response in mind, she turns back to the mirror.

"Hey!" She swats at his hand. He's found his way into her nightstand drawer. "What're you doing?"

"Pre-gaming?" He shakes the bottle of rum. A gentle smile appears before falling. He senses she's not playing around.

"You're being weird," he grumbles and flops back.

"I'm not being weird?" She scowls. The words echo back to her fight in the hallway with Ally.

"You're being really standoffish like you don't want me around."

"That's not it at all," she turns to face him, crossing her arms.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm just- I guess I'm still not used to you being around yet."

"I can move back home," he offers.

"I don't want that," she shakes her head. She really doesn't want that at all. "It's just new, and it can be a little overwhelming at times." Emma reaches out, swiping the bottle from his hands and taking a couple of gulps. She really wanted him to stop asking about it and just leave her be.

"If you want me to go-"

"Roman, please stop. I don't want you to go, okay? Can we just go out? That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he motions for the bottle. "Just get ready, take your time."

"Please don't run off without me tonight," Emma reaches for her hairbrush. "Or if you're going to just give me a heads up so I can head home."

"Do you not want to go tonight?"

"No, it's fine. I just don't want to get ditched," she says. It's unlikely, but the last thing she wants is to have to talk to Scotty. Especially now that she's hanging out with Roman again, further proving him right. Or if Alex is there- she's not emotionally ready to handle that.

"Aren't any of your friends going?"

"Yeah, you," she sighs.

"What about Ally?"

"We're not really speaking right now," Emma says as emotionless as possible. If she makes it sound uninteresting maybe he won't ask. But he does.

"Why not?"

"Dumb girl fights, I guess." It's true, they were girls and Emma thought their fight was pretty dumb.

"I don't remember hearing about that," he pushes further.

"Yeah, you were in your coma."

"Did it have anything to do with..."

"The whole threatening to call the police because she thought I was going to kill myself? Because you couldn't just text her back and pretend to be me?" She asks with a hint of anger. "Yeah, it had a little to do with that."

"I didn't know what to say."

"I think an 'I'm fine' would've probably been good."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Sick of sharing, she opens the same drawer from earlier grabbing her own bottle.

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"No," she snaps. "We graduate soon anyways, it's not that important," she reaches forward to turn her desk lamp off. "Let's just go."

"I don't want to go if you don't want to."

"I want to go," she clenches her jaw and takes another drink. "Do you want me to go?"

"Yeah-"

"Then let's go."

"You don't want to go," he surmises. "You want to stay here and study."

"I don't want to study," Emma rolls her eyes. "I have to get my grades up so I don't have to drop out, get pregnant, and become a waitress," she hisses, unsure of where this comment came from. That moment at Destiny's felt like it happened so long ago, it's was buried under a million other memories. "Wasn't that what you said?"

Roman's jaw and he stammers trying to speak. "Emma, please," he rubs his forehead. "You know that's not what happened."

"It is exactly what happened."

"If you're going to hold things against me that I didn't do on purpose we're never going to progress. Do you want this? Do you want our friendship to be over because of this? You want to let her win?"

"This isn't a game to me Roman!" Emma slams her bottle down. "This is my fucking life. I don't care if she "wins" because I already lost. So I'm sorry if I'm a little bitter about the things you said to me," she ends on a sarcastic note.

"I thought you forgave me," he mumbles. He had told her to forgive him, he watched as it sank in. She had forgiven him. Now she can remember the anger she felt. Somehow, she was able to forget that she had forgiven him. If she could remember that what else could she come to remember?

"I thought I did too," she sighs and leans back in her chair. "I don't want to be mad at you but I am."

"I don't want you to be mad at me either," he makes a decision then and there. "But if you need to be that's okay," he tells her that flat out. Honestly, though, Roman's not so sure he believes it. He wants to, he really wants to, but it's hard.

"I don't want that either," Emma pulls her feet into her chair and wraps her arm around herself. She wants to be above her emotions and feelings. She doesn't want to be held back by things she can't control. "I... I... I don't know. Words are hard." Roman can drink to that, and so he does. Taking one large swig straight from the bottle he still hasn't found the right words.

"It's fucked."

"Amen," she grabs her own bottle and drinks. "You know what?" She asks him. "I don't think there's anything more normal than us getting drunk to solve our problems."

"We are good at that, aren't we?"

"The best," she chuckles. "I have an idea."

"I'm all ears."

"It's a drinking game, but every time one of us doesn't know what to say we drink," she shakes the bottle. "We'll either work it out, pass out, or die."

"We might need more than this bottle," he looks at its contents. He knows what his tolerance level is and it's not enough. Emma reaches around him to the second drawer in her nightstand. Upon further inspection, he sees she has a small collection going. "We might die."

"So what should we..." She stammers through. "Talk about?"

Uh..." He thinks. "How is your college stuff going.?"

"Next topic," she drinks.

"Where did you apply?" He asks and waits. When nothing comes he decides to push further. "Did you find another school?" Frustrated, she unscrews the bottle cap and takes another drink.

"My turn," she lifts an eyebrow. "What really happened with your coma."

"I told you exactly what I remember," Roman crosses his arms. "Do you still have feelings for Peter?"

"Next topic," she takes a long drink. She doesn't know the answer to his question.

"Why-"

"No, no," she puts a finger up to stop him. "My turn. Why did you come to me at that party? In the bathroom?" Roman gulps then drinks again. "You won't answer?" Another drink.

"Next topic. If you hated me so much why did you have sex with me?"

"Next topic," she hisses then drinks. She wants him to answer her questions but won't answer his. She knows it's absurd, but she'd rather drink herself into an early grave than tell him her dark secrets. At this rate, it was only a matter of time. "If _you_ hated me so much why did you have sex with me?"

"Next topic," he growls taking another drink. The tension and heat in the room is rising quickly. The frustration and anger is on the verge of growing to a head. "Why did you suggest this you don't want to do it?"

"Because I thought you would answer my questions!" She takes another drink. Both of their bottles are quickly depleting. "It's the least you could do."

"Oh my god!" He moans. "Please, for the fucking love of God, stop! Emma, Emma, stop."

"Honestly, Roman, what did you think was going to happen?" Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. "That I would like just- just" she stammers. "That I would just be so excited and that seeing you- that things were going to just be fine? That like I just would be fine," she can't control the order that her words were coming out- repetitive in her growing drunken state. "That you would explain everything and suddenly it would be okay?"

"That's how it seemed at first."

"I know," she sighs and takes one long, long, drink. The taste of cheap liquor is horrific and it burns going down. The urge to vomit is resisted and she takes a deep breath. "It's difficult. I don't know how to make it make sense." It's Roman's turn to drink now.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Avoiding it won't-"

"No, that's my answer," she sighs. Her gut is tugged in one direction with the desire to share her feelings with him and with embarrassment in the other. It wasn't supposed to be like this, no not at all. After the night at the mill it was supposed to be over- that was that. She didn't want sympathy, but it was a fucking parasite inside her. "I didn't and I don't want to talk about it..." she clicks her tongue in the silence, "because I am embarrassed about it."

"Why are you?" He asks, not completing the thought. It's a contradictory statement she has to explain. The rational and the emotional can't seem to agree. There's nothing to be embarrassed about.

"I went to a doctor, so I told them," she admits and throws back more alcohol. She's too sober to feel good about sharing the story. "It was really- invasive? I just wanted it to be done after that and let it be."

"Were you okay? I mean apart from the obvious," Roman sinks in further into himself, slipping away slightly.

"I was fine for the most part."

"For the most part?"

"Just some bruises and a couple of internal abrasions, that's what they said anyway," she mumbles and picks at her fingernails. Perhaps he's overstepping, but the desire to know is washing over him in a suffocating fashion. "Next topic," she whispers and he doesn't push. It would be a particularly tough hit for him to make her keep speaking about it. "What did you say about me?"

"What?"

"When we weren't speaking, what did you say about me to others?"

"I didn't really bring you up."

"I know that's a lie." She watches as Roman turns the bottle up to the air.

"Why did you ask me to move in?"

"Because I care about you and I wanted to make sure you were safe," Emma continues to pick at her nails. "Why did you move in if you didn't want to?"

"Because I knew it would make you feel better," Roman shrugs, face in his hands. "But clearly that was pointless."

"It wasn't pointless. I do feel better about you being here." The thought of Roman returning home to his mother makes her shudder even more now. Despite his insistence that he would be fine, Emma knew he didn't want to go back either. This was his only option until graduation. "I have to pee," she says, standing and feeling the full effects of their little drinking game.

In the bathroom, the mirror shows her flushed with messy hair. How had it gotten so messy just sitting there? How did she not realize how sweaty she was? Wanting to cover up the red splotches growing on her chest, she throws on a tee-shirt from the floor.

Returning to the room, well stumbling, she sees that Roman has cleared his bottle. The rooms spins a bit and the words slide out like melted margarine. 

"Sometimes, when I look at you, all I can remember is how it felt after you left. That was the worst part," she mumbles and sways back to her chair. 

"Why won't you talk to me about it?" He asks, raising his eyebrows as she tries to get through as much of her bottle as she can. She laughs a bit.

"Why would I? You were there."

"Has anyone ever told you you're an angry drunk?" He quips. 

"What do you want to hear about?" She asks waving the bottle around, only more bitter from his comment. "Just go to the party, Roman."

"No."

"No?" She scoffs.

"I'm not going anywhere because you have to tell someone these things or you are going to fucking implode," he stands walking closer to her. "I am trying to help. I can see it in your face, you're a time bomb."

"Get out," she demands. "Get out of my fucking room."

"No," he gets closer to her face. "Do you want to know what I think?"

"Not really-"

"I think you like feeling like shit. You like wallowing in it because it's the easiest thing to do. That's why you won't talk to anyone."

"Who would I talk to, Roman?" She stands up to meet him. She didn't like him towering over her like a child. "If I told anyone what happened I'd get locked up in a mental institution! The only people who would believe me, are you and Peter," she pokes his chest harshly. 

"So you're just going to keep it locked up? Stay mad at me for something I didn't do?"

"Oh," she rolls her eyes. "Like you're so great at handling your problems. Don't fucking lecture me, Godfrey."

"I'm not trying to lecture you!  _ Fuck! _ " He puts his hands up in frustration. "I am worried about you! How many times do I have to fucking say that?"

"What will make you feel better?" She grabs a new bottle and uncaps it. "Because I think this is your own fucked up way of trying to make yourself feel better.  _ You  _ want to talk about it. Not me," she slurs, not completely convinced that her words are making any sense. Apparently, Roman finds some meaning in them and ups his volume to compete with hers.

"I think it would be good for both of us! I'm fucked up about it too, okay?"

"Oh, sorry," she says sarcastically. "What can _  I  _ do to make  _ you _  feel better? Huh?"

"Don't fucking patronize me!" Roman has to sit down, he's drunk and getting too dizzy. "I just wanted to talk."

"Okay," Emma says followed by a few large gulps. She's feeling a bit animated and warm- or just really  _ really  _ drunk. Who could tell? "Let's talk."

"For real?"

"For real," she claps her hands together. "I really don't know how to act around you. I don't know what to say to you when it's quiet," she closes her eyes trying to focus her mind on her words. "I'm worried that I never will. You might not feel like what happened was your fault, and I like get that, but it felt like you. It looked like you. There are two conflicting realities in my head. Neither are great for me."

"Em-" he reaches out, but she puts her hand up. Eyes still closed she hiccups before continuing.

"No amount of apologies or explanations are going to- going to... It's not going to un-traumatize me." She takes a seat, feeling sick. "I'm sorry, you're right. This is about you too. You... you have your own issues."

"You don't have to apologize to me."

"No, I do," she opens her eyes to look at him. "I know it's not your fault, but it... it... You deserve answers too. I don't have any. Maybe there aren't any answers? Fuck. I don't know. But," she continues rambling on, barely coherent. "I don't know. I don't want to talk to you because I still feel like you think I'm stupid, but I also don't know who else to talk to. But- but- but I want to scream into a fucking void and I've spent the last however many months with the same goddamn 30 minutes rolling over in my head." Roman tries to keep up but her thoughts are just rolling out. "Then I did a bunch of other dumb shit and I don't know why and now I'm here and it's even more confusing," the further along she goes the more every word wanders into one very long word. " _ Andeveryonefucking hatesme. I can't evenblamethemy'know? _ " 

He doesn't know. He really doesn't know what she's saying. Everything that comes after that is utter nonsense, only interrupted by short drinks from her bottle. "Do you feel better now?" She finally asks in real words. Roman shakes his head slowly. "What would you like to know? What can I say that will finally make you feel better?" He thinks she's about to cry, but then he sees anger and bitterness flash in her eyes again. Her repetitive phrases only heighten her anger.

"I don't need to know-" He tries to stop her but she's on one now.

"What do you want to hear about?" She tries to stand but falls back to her chair. "I could tell you about sitting in a waiting room alone for like an hour. About the episodes of Judge Judy I watched there. Do you  _ really  _ want to know what I didn't tell anyone?" Roman sits still, barely even breathing. "Because I didn't want to hurt  _ you, _ " she points to him and lets out a short laugh. "And imagine my surprise when you started talking shit about me."

"I didn't talk shit about you," he calmly defends himself.

"Oh, but you did. Shelley emailed me- said that she was hearing bad things about me," she tells him leaving out that it was actually Olivia who did. She needed to catch him in a lie. It would feel better then. "Who did she hear them from? Hm?"

"I don't want to talk about Shelley."

"You talked shit to Peter, to any girl that would fuck you. You said some real mean shit straight to my face," she takes another drink. The desire to stand up for himself rises but he pushes it down. "Can you imagine how surprising that was to me? That I spent hours at a doctors office just telling them I didn't want to report anything and all the while there you were. Just living your life."

"I didn't mean it. I was mad," he looks down. "I didn't know why I was mad, I just knew I was."

"I am very confused about everything!" She finally yells and tugs at her hair. 

"I am too," he says gently trying not to rouse her. She watches as she stands and sways towards her bed. When her feet won't move she settles for sitting on the floor.

"I've been wanting to scream about it for months, understand what happened. Just like- a fucking megaphone, like everywhere. Does that make sense? Like it's not clicking."

"Huh?" He hiccups and slides off the bed to meet her on the floor.

"Somethings not adding up," she thinks aloud. "Like shit's weird?"

"Like the vargulf and stuff?" He asks still trying to catch up with her thoughts.

"Well, obviously, that's a whole other type of weird. Which I'm still a little fucked up with by the way," she adds. "I'm talking about the whole 'us' thing." She cringes at saying us the way she did.

"I'm not following," he chuckles and takes another drink. Maybe if he's drunker he'll speak her language.

"I don't understand." They sit on her floor, backs leaning against the side of her mattress. "Don't you think it's weird how much your mom encouraged- enabled us?"

"What do you mean?" He stares deeply into the distance as if he's trying to find something.

"We were puberty ridden, hormonal teenagers and she let us sleep in the same room- same bed. That's weird, Roman."

"I mean we were friends," he scrunches his face at how silly she's being. "I don't think it matters."

"Okay, okay, okay," she waves her hands. "But hear me out," she points at him. He pushes her hand away, she gets too animated when she's drunk. "My mom thought it was weird."

"I think you're thinking way too far into this. My mom's a bad mom? I thought that had been established?"

"Oh, no doubt. Your mom is a cunt," she agrees. "But- I don't know. I feel like there's something we're missing. Or maybe I'm just- okay, explain everything before?"

"If I had any answers, I would share them with you," he sighs. "She's fucked up. Who knows what the fuck is going on in her mind. All I know is that the plan to make us hate each other didn't work. Look at us! Best fucking friends forever," he taps his bottle to hers as a sign of celebration.

"Plus," she returns the tap. The room is spinning and she's hit her limit, her tongue feels like it's not attached and she slurs obnoxiously. "Jokes on her, we had already fucked before all of this happened."

"And then again after!" He laughs.

 "Maybe that's why she was so mad because we were still friends afterwards?"

"Yeah," Roman whips his head to her dramatically. "What an idiot. What two friends can't have sex with each other and it not get weird?" He's not sure how the conversation became so much lighter but it feels easy and at least no one is crying.

"Yeah, that's like a normal thing," she nods enthusiastically. "If it isn't normal then how are we here right now just having a totally normal time?"

"Yeah, totally normal!" He agrees. "Like if we wanted to do it again we totally could and everything would be normal after."

"Absolutely normal," she says then takes a moment to think about the content of this conversation.

"But we shouldn't!" He interrupts her thoughts. "Should we?"

"Nah," Emma shakes her head. "Well..."

"I mean-" he stops mid-sentence. She watches eyes wide, waiting on him to answer. "I think I'm gonna throw up."

She didn't mean to fall asleep. and neither did he. It's unclear who fell asleep first, but they both manage to pass out on top of her duvet. At some point in the night, Roman managed to find a blanket and pull it up to them. He'd forgotten that he did that come morning.

As the weeks push forward, and March is coming to a close, things are really good. They're almost normal- almost. Sometimes Roman gets that look on his face and she knows he's thinking about Shelley. He's hopeful she's still out there, and despite her doubts, Emma tries to stay positive about it.

It's the last day of spring break when he gets a call. They had spent the week lounging around with Peter and Letha. Roman had a couple of meetings that week with the Godfrey lawyers in preparation for the company hand over. Everything was coming up roses. The call was the cherry on top of a perfect week.

"Okay, okay!" Roman bounces on his heels. "I'm on my way!"

"What's happening?" Emma asks.

"Birth day!" He grins like a fucking madman. 

"Oh! Yay!" Emma jumps on the balls of her feet. Opening her arms for a hug he gladly returns. When she pulls away, he grabs both of her cheeks and kisses her. Breaking apart, he kisses her forehead and races out before either can really realize what just happened.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual video footage of Roman and Emma at the end of their conversation: https://youtu.be/sVN7eEkHJFo?t=15
> 
> Seriously though guys I can't believe there's only one chapter left!! WHAT?!?! that's insane!!! I'm so thankful for every single one of you!!


	35. Love Song

"Roman," she whispers. "Please get out of bed." She stands leaning against the door but he never speaks. "Please." He ignores her again. Walking forward, he looks over at her then back to the wall.

He'd been like this for days. Since she had to drag him back from the mill, smelling like cigarettes and whiskey. Nothing had really been said between the two of them. It took a while to get him to even tell her that Peter was gone. That's it. No explanation, nothing. Just that he was gone. When she tried to call Peter his phone was disconnected. A dead end.

Emma had left him alone for the most part, that's what he wanted. She had all but given him her bedroom, only coming into to get clean clothes and try and get him to eat. He looked pitiful laying there in bed with his hair greasy and eyes bloodshot.

Emma sits at the foot of her bed, placing a hand on his leg. What do you to say to someone in this moment? At some point, the pain has to dull out, right? Looking at him now, Emma's not so sure. So much loss.

"Do you want something to eat?" She asks not expecting a response. It startles her when he gives a small nod. She has to do a double-take to make sure he's not just moving around but is, in fact, nodding yes. She get's to work making him some lunch and running it back upstairs.

He just nibbles a little bit and puts it aside. It's better than nothing. "Why don't you come hang out with me in the living room?" She asks taking a seat on the bed again. 

"I'm okay," he mumbles.

"We can watch a movie or something." He doesn't seem interested. "Do you want to be left alone?" Emma watches in awe as he slowly, very slowly shakes his head no. Roman's not one to accept help. 

She crawls up the bed and lays down flat on him, like some sort of a weighted blanket. "I can't breathe," he grumbles and fights with her.

"Sh," she puts a finger to his mouth. "Accept my comfort."

"I'm not playing!"

"Hi, "Not Playing," she starts to giggle. "I'm dad."

"That was a really bad joke," he sounds a little lighter. "You can't make dad jokes if you don't have a dad."

"Wow," she keeps trying to joke.

"You aren't even a little funny. You know that, right?" Roman's body seems to have loosened up a little bit. His muscles are slightly relaxed. "You're lucky you're good looking or you really would be fucked."

"That's better," she rolls off of him. "Nothing like some good old fashion suffocating to make you feel better. The lack of oxygen really does a number on you."

"I'm super into erotic asphyxiation," he smiles a bit.

"I don't think that's a joke." He shrugs before his face falls. He's guilty for feeling okay. He shouldn't feel okay, he should be sad. "It's okay, y'know?" Emma sits up on an elbow. "To have good moments. You can smile and still miss someone."

"I know," he sighs, looking sad again.

"Don't make me choke you out again," she puts a hand to his throat jokingly.

"Okay, go for it, but it's your fault if I nut," he stops fighting back.

"Please come do something," she pleads. "We can go get ice cream, or go to the park, or I don't- fuck what do people do for fun?"

"That all sounds pretty lame."

"What would you like to do? What does Roman want?"

"I want to lay here and just- just relax."

"Okay, we can do that today," Emma settles back down. "Then tomorrow we're going to go get something real to eat, okay?" He nods yes. She scoots over closer to him in some pathetic attempt at being a large spoon. He's way too tall for it to ever work but it's still comforting to feel a little small.

She wants to see him get up and go out, but she knows that he needs this. He needs time but he doesn't need to spend it alone. Even though it's still bright outside and she's far from tired, she closes her eyes and pulls him closer.

 

......

 

Emma finally gets him back to school. He doesn't come every day, and he usually leaves early, but he's there. Every day is a slight improvement from the one before. He seems to actually be paying attention in class and has found it to be a nice distraction. When they get home now he does his homework.

As everyone says, it just takes time. And a lot of it.

 

......

 

One Friday night, Emma finds her self seated on wooden porch steps with a beer in one hand and her phone on the other. She let Roman drag her out to Scotty's, just happy to see him  _ wanting  _ to go somewhere. Even if it meant that somewhere is here.

He'd cut her loose almost instantly upon arrival, following behind a petite brunette. Not feeling social, she chooses to sit alone outside. It's an uncomfortable feeling knowing that you're doing something for the last time. This is the last time she'd come to Scotty's, she knew it. 

"Hey," a familiar voice calls out from behind her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Emma watches carefully as Ally takes a seat next to her. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she smiles. "Are you here with Roman?"

"Yeah, he finally decided to go do something fun."

"Poor guy, I can't imagine..." Ally shakes her head. "Where's that fucker at anyways?"

"I think he's off somewhere getting blown by Cassidy Everly," she chuckles taking a sip from her bottle.

"I thought he was living with you now?"

"He is," Emma nods, unsure of why that matters.

"Oh," Ally looks surprised. "I just assumed you guys were like an old married couple now." Emma lets out a light laugh and shakes her head.

"Nope, nope. Strictly platonic," she takes another sip. "Look, I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry."

"No, you were completely right to be angry with me."

"I shouldn't have. I'm your friend."

"I wasn't being a very good person," Emma looks at Ally. "Sometimes you just have to walk away."

"Look, whatever was going on, I'm glad you seem happier."

"Me too," she smiles a bit and nods.

"You want to come back inside with me?"

"I-" She almost says yes. "I have to wait on Roman."

"C'mon, Roman's a big boy. Tyler's cousin, Wes, is in town and he's really cute."

"Is he cute or are you just saying that?"

"He's really cute," Ally winks.

"It's tempting," Emma sighs and rolls her eyes. "But I really need to keep an eye on Roman."

"Oh," Ally grins. "You are so jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"Of Cassidy Everly's mouth."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Emma flips her off.

"I don't have to because I have a boyfriend," she sticks her tongue out before waving goodbye.

Emma returns to nursing her beer on the steps and waiting. It's a chilly night despite the warmth during the day. Her conversation with Ally was more than enough socialization for the day and the stars do look beautiful.

"You ready to go?" Roman finds her after some time. They walk to his car, both painfully sober.

"How'd it go?"

"We actually just hung out, she's pretty cool." Emma's jaw drops open. "What?"

"You don't 'just hang out' with girls."

"I just hang out with you," he points out.

"Are you going to  _ just hang out  _ with her again?" She asks with an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know, maybe," he ponders.

 

......

 

Emma wakes up when it's still dark out with a vaguely familiar pain in her lower back. Stirring a bit and trying to get comfortable, the damp sheet below her sticks to her thigh. She tries to climb out of bed without waking Roman but fails. "What're you doing?" He grumbles. While she stutters, he reaches over and turns the lamp on.

It reveals that the fitted sheet is now stained with a bright red splotch. It had been so long that she had forgotten what to expect and had no idea when to expect it. He looks almost pained, biting down on his lip. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry," she rambles, cheeks bright red.

"Don't apologize. I'm not bothered! Why are you so upset?" He quickly shakes his head, realizing how that all must have looked. He shuffles on his knees towards her. "It's fine!"

"It's just- just gross."

"I don't think it's gross."

"Stop trying to- just get up so I can-" She waves him to get off her bed, flustered and embarrassed. 

"Calm down," he places his hands on her shoulders, one dumb stroking her collarbone. She suddenly remembers the rumor from the beginning of the school year. It had been so long ago that the memory had all but completely evaporated from her mind. "You want this," he says softly. He's right.

She's so shaken that she can only lay back in her thin t-shirt and watch. He takes a deep breath before gently tugging her cotton sleep shorts past her waist and down her feet. There's a silent moment where Emma convinces herself he's going to laugh at her but he doesn't. Instead, he slowly peels off her boyshorts.

And he's vocal,  _ so _  vocal. Louder than she is, for sure. He barely speaks, settling on whimpers are moans. The only words he does speak would make her blush if she hadn't already been. He behaves like some sort of starving animal. In a way, she thinks, that goes far beyond that of a strange kink. 

At her movement, he remembers that he's not alone in the room. He has to remind himself that the object above him is, in fact, the body of another person. Grabbing at her hip with one hand and offering the other for her to hold grounds him a bit. Even though his gut argues with it, he pushes it away. This is a sexual interaction. That's it. Nothing weird- just a kink.

That's all. A kink. He tells himself that this is fairly tame compared to what a lot of other people like.  _ You like blood. So? For fuck's sake, Roman, some people like being shit on. _  He repeats that to himself until it fades away into the feeling of absolute euphoria. This is better than being blown. Much better.

Roman is so absolutely overwhelmed in himself that he's almost annoyed at her writhing. Two opposite perspectives hit the same crescendo. His sounds overshadow her own and he seems so oblivious to it that she has to push him away. Roman let's out a long breath and lays his head down on her thigh. She looks down at him with his eyelashes fluttering. "Why... Uh, why don't you go- um- go shower," he suggests, out of breath and sounding a little drunk. "I'll clean up."

"Do you want me to?" She motions down to him.

"I... I already did," he admits sheepishly.

 

......

 

The next morning, when she wakes up with the feeling of fingers tickling at her waistband, she knows they're done for. It's such an easy distraction from the terrible world. Maybe they were doomed from the beginning to end up here. It becomes part of their routine. Neither of them speak about it.

Their senior year is drawing to a close quickly. They spend their lunch breaks under a tree outside, Roman's head in her lap. Everyone pities Roman too much to ask about it but they are curious. They spend their afternoon together cooking dinner for the strange family unit Roman had found himself in. Then at night, when they're alone, she fucks him until he forgets everyone he's lost.

The question lingers on both of their tongues and leaves a bitter taste in their mouth: what are we doing? The question itself wasn't the issues, but the answers it would lead to are devastating. 

 

......

 

As the letters from various schools, she had applied to start piling up, the knot in her stomach grows tighter and tighter. She'd hidden them from her mom, but time is running out. One night, after dinner, she knocks on her mom's door while she gets ready for work and sits on her bed.

"I think," Emma starts slowly. "That I would like to stay home for the year, go to community college or something."

"What?" Her mom asks, shocked and almost dropping her purse.

"I- I didn't get into UPenn," she says quietly and looking at the floor.

"What about UNC? Or Wellesley?" 

"I got accepted to UNC and to Smith. I'm waitlisted at Barnard."

"That's great, Em! Don't you want to go to one of those?"

"Yeah," she starts. "But it's just... A lot of different things."

"What's up?" Kay asks. "You've never wanted to stay around, what's happening now?"

"I just," Emma struggles. "It's not where I wanted to go."

"It's better than sticking around this place."

"But it's not where I wanted to go," she repeats. "And then there's moving, and all of those are farther away than I want, and the money, and it's been a long year."

"Does this have anything to do with Roman?" Kay asks, one eyebrow raised.

"No, no. Not at all."

"Are you sure? This doesn't seem like you," Kay takes a seat next to her. "It's not your job to take care of him.

"It has nothing to do with him. I've been thinking about this for a long time."

"I can't tell you what to do about this, it's your choice. However, if I had the opportunity and the support you do I wouldn't have stayed here."

"I know, and I'm grateful," she's at a loss for words. "I don't want to go that far away. I'd miss you, and I'd miss my cat, and I'd miss Roman."

"Look," Kay starts. "If you and Roman are... being intimate-"

"Oh god," Emma groans and covers her face. "No. Stop."

"Let me finish," she starts again. "If you and Roman are being intimate I'm not upset-"

"Mom, please!" 

"I'm a little surprised," she admits. "But I want to make sure you're being safe. If you-"

"I will pay you to stop speaking," she tries to cut her mom off, but Kay only speaks over her.

"-need to be birth control I won't judge." 

"Ew, ew, ew," she covers her ears.

"Emily Elaine Parker," Kay reaches to move her hands off her ears. "If you are mature enough to have sex your mature enough to have a serious conversation about it."

_ Shit,  _ Emma thinks. Her mom is right. Putting her hands over her face she nods.

 

......

 

"You look like you saw a ghost," Roman jokes when she finally comes back into her room.

"Yeah, it's me," she moves robotically towards her bed and lays face down. "I'm dead."

"What happened?" He laughs.

"I had to have a conversation with my mother that made me want to peel my skin off."

"Yeah?"

"She asked," Emma lifts her head up to look at him. "If, and I quote, we were being intimate." Roman bursts out into laughter. "Intimate! She seriously said intimate!"

"I love her," Roman bites back more laughter.

"Now, she's taking me to the doctor for birth control," she says, clearly not as amused as he is. "So thanks."

"That's nice of her."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she snickers.

"Oh, come on, Em," he rolls his eyes. "You have to admit that's good parenting."

"Fuck you," she groans into her pillow. "Fuck you."

"You do, and now your mom knows," he cackles. There is a bit of relief in her gut that both conversations didn't end horribly. Saying anything to Roman at all had stressed her out. Now they had spoken about the multiple elephants in the room. She ignores the sound of him approaching the bed but his hand sliding up her shorts grabs her attention. "I can't believe she didn't already think-"

"Can you not talk about my mom while you're doing that?" She shoo's his hand away.

"Fine, no more mom talk," he puts his hand back. Dipping his fingers into her underwear, he smirks as she rolls over onto her back. "Better?" She nods. Without hesitation, she goes ahead and just pulls her own shirt off. Using his free hand he pushes hair back from her face. Closing her eyes, she relaxes into the touch.

He's so soft. Too soft. Light, fluttering, kisses are placed down her neck until stopping at a nipple. Too soft. She pulls him by his hair back to her face. He gives her a quick peck then moves back down.

"You can- y'know?" She grinds her teeth nervously.

"I don't know," he says, not slowing the kisses down.

"You won't hurt me," she mumbles. "I'll tell you if you do." 

"Um-" he thinks. "Okay."

He tries to be less cautious, pulls at her hair, quickly taking off any remaining pieces of clothing, fingers moving faster. There's something wrong, though. He stops abruptly and waits for her eyes to meet his. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she nods. There's something on the tip of her tongue, he can see it trying to climb out.

"What?" She mumbles something so quickly he has to ask her to repeat it.

"You should, y'know," she motions towards the headboard. His eyes pop open wide.

"No," he shakes his head. "No."

"Please," she whimpers below him. 

"I can't do that to you."

 Roman's not stupid. He knew that somewhere deep down she knew why she was asking him to do this. Somehow, she's convinced herself of something that she didn't know she had. If she could make herself enjoy it now it will suffocate the old memories

"No, no," he pulls her hands down to the bed. "I'm not comfortable with that."

"Ro-"

"Not to the headboard," he sighs and takes her wrists in one of his huge hands. "Just above your head. Okay?" If this is some strange coping mechanism who is he to judge or withhold it from her?

 

......

 

The first time Roman said something about going to prom she thought he was joking. The second time she thought he joking. But the third time she realized he was serious. Emma looks at him like he's crazy. Never,  _ never _ , in her life would she expect that from him. He hated going to Godfrey events, but he wanted to go to prom?

They're sitting outside at lunchtime when he brings it up one last time. "You should go," Emma encourages him. She doesn't know why he'd want to, but she's happy to see him doing anything.

"I don't want to go alone."

"Ask someone?" She chuckles. "I'm sure you'd make some girls dream come true." He doesn't react, only keeps nipping at his lunch. "What about Cassidy? Are you still-"

"What about you?" He cuts her off. "Like we could go as friends."

"Oh," she's stunned. "If that's what you want, okay."

It had been such a last-minute decision that there wasn't much planning. Roman comes home one night with a shit-eating grin and a large bag. "Olivia's credit card is on file and I had them tailor it from your last fitting," he explains. When she tries it on it's a bit too big. Using safety pins and fashion tape she manages to make it work.

 

......

 

"I look like a woodland creature!" She shouts down the stairs.

"A cute woodland creature!" Her mom calls back.

The night starts off with her mother taking no less than a million photos of them. Emma keeps telling her they have to go, but Roman tells her mom to ignore her. He's determined to have a totally normal experience. His first and last normal high school experience.

They shoot a couple of mini-liquor bottles before going in, and then a decent amount more as the night goes on. Roman even goes the extra mile and cheats their way into winning Prom King and Queen. Well, he at least cheats her way. There's a pretty good chance he could have won it fairly given the number of girls who kept telling him how handsome he looked.

"Hey, Godfrey!" She shouts from her bed, plastic crown crooked. "Stop staring at yourself in the mirror!" He laughs from his spot watching her drink champagne straight from the bottle. "I want to lose my virginity on prom night like a good small-town girl!" 

"Oh goody!" He mocks her. "Maybe I'll get to see a lady's breast tonight."

"Not at the speed your moving!"

"Oh yeah?" He tries to kick off his shoes but stumbles back to the bed. He begins unbuttoning his shirt slowly, glancing back every other button. Emma flips forward to face him.

"I bet other girls are really into that," she takes a gulp from the bottle.

"Huh?"

"The mysterious, boss daddy thing you do," she sits up a bit. Moving in exaggerated motions, she pretends to slowly unbutton a nonexistent shirt and play with the wrist cuffs.

"Okay," Roman pushes her back and stands. "How would you prefer I take off my $7,000 Tom Ford tuxedo. Should I just throw it in a pile on the floor?"

"Oh, he name dropped!  _ I'm Roman Godfrey and I wear Tom Ford tuxedo's to my high school prom _ ."

"Don't forget," he pulls her legs to the edge of the bed. Champaign spills everywhere and she swears at him. He leans over her, pinning her beneath him. "I put you in that $10,000 dress. I'll have it cut into shreds if I want," he smirks at her face. She looks startled at first. Then she bursts into laughter.

"Nice try," she reaches up to finish his buttons. "You don't intimidate me one bit, Godfrey."

"On second thought, I like the dress," he toys with the strap.

"You know most people go to hotels after prom? Not their mother's house." She asks as he steps away. She sits up on her elbows and watches him dig through his jacket pockets then toss it on the ground.

"We're not most people. Most people in this town think a Holliday Inn is fancy," he fishes out a vile and moves to her desk. "When I'm graduated and rich again we can go to a real hotel, deal?" He forms a line and takes a quick hit.

"I'm holding you to that." He motions her forward for a hit.

"Aw, look at that," he dotes as she takes it, the champagne bottle still in hand. "Have you changed your mind about the being my coke whore thing? Because I'll remind you once more, I am very rich."

"One: Shut the fuck up. Two: still a no," she laughs as he picks up the remainder with his finger. He shoves his finger past her lips, rubbing it on her gums. She pushes his hand away. "Can you unzip me?" She tries to turn for him, but he pushes her back down. 

"I told you," he toys with the straps again. Gently, he pulls the top down far enough to reveal her breasts. "I like the dress."

"Fine," she rolls her eyes dramatically. Emma lifts up her lower back so he can pull her underwear off. He looks at them for a moment.

"Are you actually 80 years old?" He waves them around. 

"They're no shows! They have to be that big."

"Just don't wear any next time?" He jokes and throws them back. 

"Yeah, I'll do that next prom," Emma promises sarcastically. When she sits up on her elbows to watch him undress her head feels heavy so she just lays back. Just two normal friends, having normal sex and going to a normal prom. They've convinced themselves that everything's completely normal. 

He's surprisingly tame for Roman- content staying in missionary with the only exception being when he disappears below the tulle of her dress. It happens fast, she knows that face pretty well by now. Then he's gone. Slipped out.

"There," he smirks as she still tries to catch up to speed. "The dress is ruined. Are you happy?

"Did you just..." She looks down, then up, then down again. "Cum on a $10,000 dress?"

"I sure did."

"You know, this why people hate the rich. Because you spend a dumb fucking amount of money on things and then you just- you just ejaculate on it!"

"If anything, I've just made it more valuable," he grins. "Any offspring of mine is worth the cost of this dress like a million times over."

 

 

 

 


	36. Epilogue | For Emma, Forever Ago |

"What do we do now?" Emma asks flopping back on the couch. Roman sits down on the other side. Graduation had been obnoxiously long, especially for two disinterested teenagers. It was so much talking and reminiscing on times they were never interested in to begin with. It was exhausting.

Following that, was a lunch with Emma's mom that was quiet. Kay seemed sad but mostly excited for her daughter's future- whatever that would entail. She drops them back off at home before heading out for work.

"Well, I'm officially the CEO of my own company," Roman shrugs.

"You still have papers to sign," she reminds him, pulling him down from his pedestal.

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes. "I think I'm going to buy a house."

"A whole house?" Her eyebrows raise.

"Yeah, I mean I have to live somewhere. I don't really want to go back to the mansion..."

"It's going to be quiet around here- without you talking all the goddamn time," she tries to sound annoyed.

"You'll be in your dorm before you know it."

"I'm staying here."

"Here?" He asks and points down to the floor. "Here?"

"Yeah, I'm staying home for a year."

"Why?" Roman is stunned.

"I didn't get in where I wanted to go, and I think a year at home would be nice. Y'know, go to community college. I can transfer somewhere later, and Mom's still paying off the house, so it just makes sense."

"You didn't get in anywhere you wanted to go?" He asks, concerned.

"I got into a few places, but nowhere really worth packing up and paying for," Emma explains. "We just left school, can we like not talk about it for one day?"

 

**_ One Week Later _ **

Emma sits on the sofa staring down at a single sheet of paper in her hand. Her knees bounce up and down a bit. Folding the paper, she puts it into her purse and bites her lip. "Hey, Mom," she calls to the kitchen. "Can you drop me off at Roman's on your way to work?"

The mansion looks the same from the outside as it always did. She had knocked, but no one came to answer it so she lets herself in. Inside, most of the furniture has been covered in drop cloths and the smaller things are packed into boxes. There's only the subtle sound of glasses clanking  down the hallway that alerts her of movement.

"Oh, hey!" He says from behind the small bar. Roman's hard at work making a drink and despite the heat is wearing a long sleeve shirt. He finishes making his old fashioned then walks around to meet her. "What's up?"

"I got a letter from the University of Pennsylvania," she says, pulling it out of her purse. "They've reconsidered my application and I'm accepted."

"Good!" Roman hugs her and scruffs her hair. She doesn't react. "I knew you had it in you."

"Yeah, they also sent me a pamphlet to show off their new lab building, the Godfrey Lab for Innovations in Biomedicine."

"What a coincidence! I love owning a company that invests in the future of bright young minds."

"You bribed them."

"Not bribed, made a suggestion," he corrects her. Emma looks at him with disappointment. "I could have made a suggestion without giving any money but I played nice."

"It's not funny, Roman. I already decided to go to stay home and I'm not comfortable with this. I can't have you buy my way into things."

"Emma, if it weren't for the Godfrey family you would have gotten in. If things had been different ..." He leans back on the bar. "Consider it a "thank you for putting up with my bullshit" gift."

"I don't like this," she stays seriously. "I don't want this."

"Then don't go," he shrugs and takes a long drink. "But, I know that you do want to go. If you didn't want to you would have already said no."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: EEEEEK it's over. Wowowowow that's insane.
> 
> The second book is already published and ready to be followed if you're interested! I'm taking a small break, not for long, to rest and work on some things for my real job lol. I'm feeling a little burnt out on writing. I guess writing 100,000+ words in a matter of months can do that to you. But I will be back and better than ever very soon.
> 
> !!!! Love you all !!!!


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